A New Set of Values
by Addams Girls Studio
Summary: Generations of viewers know Addams Family Values. But they only know one version of the story. What happens when slightly-deranged fangirls get their hands on it? A baby girl and a poetic adolescent suitor are just the beginning... AU. No self-insertion.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N:** Eryn here, to tell you a brief tale of horror, mystery, and fiendish ideas that cannot be unlearned. It began, as many such tales do, on MSN Messenger. Late one night, as lightning failed to crash across the sky, someone typed the fateful words: "What if Pubert had been a girl?"

From there, things escalated until the concept had become more like, "What if Ellie and Eryn had written Addams Family Values?" And thus was this story born. The plan is for us to trade off chapter by chapter, round-robin style. Neither of us owns any aspect of or character from any incarnation of TAF.

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><p>"It's a boy," said the pudgy boy; his tone was almost overly confident, and belied by anxious tugging at the neck of his striped shirt. His black-haired sister glanced at him, supremely unmoved.<p>

"It's a girl," she replied flatly.

Suddenly, the waiting room door flew open. A tall, swarthy man in a pinstriped suit burst into the room, eyes wide with urgency. Almost before he could open his mouth, the long-awaited announcement was cut off by a bald man in a black robe.

"Gomez!"

"What news?" demanded a rather ragged-looking old woman.

The girl rose slightly out of her chair. "Father, what is it?"

Beaming with pride, the mustachioed Spaniard announced to the room at large, "It's an Addams."

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><p>"You're the youngest Addams woman now."<p>

The only response from the cradle was silence, punctuated by occasional gurgles.

"It's not a position of great responsibility. All you have to do is watch and learn. Doesn't that sound easy?"

Another gurgle, followed by the wet sound of a foot being vigorously sucked on.

"It's not. Because there's more to it than that. You have to watch _carefully_ and learn _fast_. If you don't, you won't live to see five."

When this comment, too, went unanswered, Wednesday sighed and carefully ducked her head beneath the mobile of knives. She regarded the baby solemnly.

"This probably sounds harsh, but it's true," the 12-year-old continued. "I'll do my best to help you not get killed by our moronic brother- not that hard. But you have to stand up for yourself."

The sound of splintering wood echoed in the grim nursery as the newest Addams child sank her already-prodigious teeth into the side of the cradle.

"And I'll play with you, of course. Pugsley and I are playing Reign of Terror tomorrow, and I expect you to help."

A snort from the doorway cause Wednesday to turn suddenly. Her brother stood framed by the dingy lintel, clutching a large, rusted javelin and scowling even harder than usual. Crossing his arms, he tapped one foot steadily against the floor.

"What are you doing?" he asked. The girl, still leaning slightly against the cradle, stared back at him unblinking.

"Talking to our sister. What are _you_ doing?"

He shifted his grip on the weapon's handle. "Cleaning my javelin. Or I was, until I heard you in here."

Slowly, Pugsley crossed the creaking floor to stand beside the cradle. With a brief glance at the pallid infant within, he continued, "Why is _she_ going to play Reign of Terror with us? She's just a baby."

"But she's an Addams," the older girl replied, "and she's our sister. We have to make sure she grows up right."

Chubby knuckles whitened on the side of the cradle, causing still more rotting wood to shatter. In the dim light slanting around the edges of the carefully closed shutters, Wednesday was mildly shocked to see a new emotion in her brother's eyes: jealousy.

Once more Pugsley gazed down at his infant sister. For her part, the child lay snuggled in her black blanket against the ebony of the cradle, sucking drowsily on one tentacle of a large cloth octopus. It would be difficult to imagine a more harmless-looking child...or at least, the now-middle Addams sibling thought so. Wednesday, who still remembered baby Pugsley, was prepared to duck at any moment.

But the nefarious, relatively innocent mind of the eleven-year-old boy didn't understand this. All he saw was a dark-eyed, ivory-skinned intrusion.

"She's not even dangerous," he muttered softly, raising the javelin almost without meaning to. "Just a little blob of goo…"

The point was almost parallel to the baby's throat when an iron grip caught the handle and forced the weapon down. Pugsley looked up sharply, gaping at his sister.

"Come on, Wednes! You want some little worm stealing all of Mother and Father's attention?"

Almost before he could blink, the javelin was wrenched from his grasp and its point quivered beneath his chins. Steady and expressionless, Wednesday forced him back until he stood again in the doorway.

"She's not a worm," the girl said, adjusting her grip. "She's my sister, and I want her to get old enough to hold intelligent conversations. If you disagree, we have a problem. Understand?"

When the javelin was moved to a safe distance, Pugsley nodded grudgingly. "But she can't play with us. Especially not Reign of Terror."

"Yes, she can."

The boy gasped, hurt. "But I was going to be Louis this time!"

"We've already done Louis," she replied with a shrug. "I want to do the Princesse de Lamballe."

Pugsley's eyes narrowed. As he stalked from the room, he called over his shoulder, "You haven't heard the last of this."

After pondering for a moment, the oldest Addams child crossed back to the family cradle. The baby, she observed with an unfamiliar pang of affection, was now wriggling and stretching her little arms in an effort to reach the blades dangling above. With a sigh, Wednesday dislodged a large butcher knife and placed it gently within her sister's reach.

"Good luck, Cassandra," she murmured, watching as the walls of the cradle gained several new gouge marks. "You're going to need it."

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><p><strong>AN:** Yes, readers, please give a warm welcome to Cassandra Corva Addams. And so it begins…

(Historical note- the Reign of Terror, in case you didn't know, refers to the French Revolution. The Louis in question and the Princesse de Lamballe were real people, both of whom went to the guillotine.)


	2. Chapter 2

**Author's note: Hi, everyone! It's Ellie/Gleefully Wicked here. This is my first part of the collab with Eryn(Child of a Broken Dawn). Personally, I think she will be writing the better chapters, but I'm going to try my best. I'm really not good at making author's notes amusing, so onto the story! (and for those who have never seen Addams Family Values, I have the full movie posted on my YouTube account, kRodAddams).**

Wednesday put on her blowtorch mask and pulled the miniature noose over the vile Cabbage Patch Kid's head. She had needed a little bit of time to herself after several weeks of protecting Cassandra from their brother, who had made it his life's mission to get rid of her. He had learned about an old family tradition that said that when a new baby is born, one of the other children has to die. Despite their grandmother's insistence that this was no longer the case, Pugsley had decided that the family really only needed one girl, and he wouldn't dare try to kill Wednesday. He'd quickly learned that getting rid of the baby wouldn't be easy due to her amazing luck.

He'd dropped her off the roof, only to have their father catch her, he tried to guillotine her a la Marie Antoinette only to have his baby sister stop the blade with her bare hand, and then turned to firearms, only to have Wednesday knock Uncle Fester's musket out of his hand, causing him to miss and break a window.

This in turn led to their mother thinking they needed a nanny. The series of potentials were almost worse than the baby. Wednesday, not wanting an incompetent person taking care of her beloved baby sister, had agreed to help him scare them off. Just a match, a menacing comment, and a Satan puppet had done the trick. It was more than a little bit disappointing that they weren't given much of a challenge.

She had just picked up her torch when she saw her brother standing in the doorway. She reluctantly flipped up the visor.

"What do you want?" She asked. He closed the door and crossed over to her. He looked closely at the doll hanging by it's neck before backing away in fear.

"I just want to play with you. I never get to anymore because of the stupid baby and-" Pugsley didn't get to finish that sentence because Wednesday crossed over to him in five big strides and held the blowtorch an inch away from his face.

"How many times do I have to tell you? She is our sister and I will not accept you speaking of her in such a way." She didn't have time to tell him what she would do to him if he did, because there was a knock on the door. Wednesday felt as though her head might explode. She had to burn something! Her parents opened the door and entered with an unknown person.

"Children, this is Miss Jellinsky our new nanny. What do we say?" Wednesday quickly sized up the blonde woman in the white dress with a smile plastered on her face. Definitely nothing like the other nannies, but then again, the agency had to be desperate by now.

"Be afraid. Be VERY afraid." She said menacingly. The woman showed no sign of fear. Clearly she thought Wednesday had been joking. She even got down on her knees so she could be at their level. Big mistake.

"Look at you! All cooped up in this house with a new baby. That's not easy, is it?" The woman spoke to the preteens as if they were wide-eyed four-year-olds. Wednesday wanted to set her straight, but instead Pugsley replied,

"No." sounding exactly like the child he was. It was an absolutely disgraceful ploy to earn him sympathy.

"Why, I bet sometimes you wish it was still just the two of you." Miss. Jellinsky continued. Wednesday looked at the pitiful, chubby boy next to her, currently nodding his head.

"Or less." she said in her usual monotonous voice full of snark.

"Well, don't you worry. Everything is going to be just fine." Miss. Jellinsky said and emphasized the last word before standing up to turn around and face the children's parents. Wednesday had a very strong feeling that this was most certainly not the case. Why did her family attract weirdos?

...

Pugsley leaned over his baby sister's cradle. She was whining because her precious knife had fallen somewhere out of her reach. He didn't understand why everyone thought she was so interesting. All she ever did lay around, doing nothing. Wednesday had insisted that Cassandra was very intelligent, but he had yet to see any proof of this. Granted, she had amazing reflexes, but so do birds, and guessing by how easily they were killed, they weren't too bright either.

It was infuriating to him that he seemed to be the only person in the family who saw the kid as nothing more than surplus flesh taking up the room that was going to be his laboratory in a few years. Though, he had to admit that the fact that she looked like a doughy little Wednesday with less hair was pretty amusing.

The little devil looked up into his eyes intently and he had to look away almost instantly. Ok, so she also was able to give a Wednesday-esque death glare. He reached into the cradle and her little teeth chomped on his right index finger. Pugsley growled at the baby and wiped his bloody digit on his shorts before reaching in a second time to lift her out of the crib. He held her away from him at arm's length and turned to walk out of the room.

He really shouldn't have been surprised to see Wednesday blocking his path. Arms crossed, feet firmly on the ground, a face saying, "If you do anything to that infant, I will kill you, and then bring you back and kill you again".

"What are you doing with Cassandra?" Wednesday asked accusingly. Pugsley looked incredibly guilty in this situation.

"Just spending some quality time with our sister, like you wanted." He replied nonchalantly while he began to inch toward the door. His older sister noticed and moved as well. Pugsley knew he had to think fast. He clutched the baby to his chest and charged at his sister, his head slightly down like a bull, pushing past her and running. His only hope was to get a head start in order to have any chance at executing his plan, due to Wednesday being way more agile. He managed to make it all the way to the stairs before she got a hold of his striped shirt.

"You're not going to do anything to her!" She roared. Pugsley somehow managed to tug his shirt free and made it to the next floor. He ran forward and she lunged, her arms wrapping around his neck. This turned out to be their downfall, as Pugsley lost his balance, and the baby girl flew from his arms over the railing looking down into the foyer. No, it couldn't have been that easy. They both ran over and looked down. To Wednesday's relief, Cassandra had landed in their father's arms…again. The three adults were all looking up at them. The eldest Addams child turned her head to glare at her brother.

**Well, there you have it. Love it? Hate it? Review? Pretty please? Seriously, no reviews makes me a very sad panda pirate. (Insert Frowny Face Here). *Sigh* A plateful of delicious cyber brownies for any reviewer?**


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N**: And so, the story continues. I don't have anything amusing to say, so on with the chapter.

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><p>"Hold <em>still<em>, you little brat!"

"She's not a brat."

A lesser woman might have jumped a foot in the air. Debbie just whirled, a flurry of blonde and white, towards the source of the interruption.

Wednesday stood in the doorway, arms folded and eyes fixed on the nanny. Said nanny mentally swore; she should have been on guard from the moment the sounds of the girl's weekly fencing lesson had stopped from the floor below. Sure enough, a rapier dangled from one paper-white hand- loosely held, but if her expression was any clue, not too loosely to be used at a moment's notice.

Still, the blonde hadn't gotten this far by being a bad actress. She quickly plastered a wide smile across her face and simpered, "Of course not! She's an adorable little baby!"

Her young charge didn't reply. Instead, Wednesday crossed to the cradle where her newly re-diapered sister lay, watching the scene raptly. For a three-month-old, Cassandra had developed a remarkably accurate instinct for when to remain silent.

Carefully picking up the baby, the older girl fixed Debbie with a piercing gaze. "Then try to remember that."

_Nice try, sweetheart._ The smile didn't even waver. "We're getting her all ready for a nice little walk," Debbie said, taking a few steps in place as if demonstrating the action to a five-year-old. "Would you like to come?"

"Are you really a nanny?"

The question, delivered in such a monotone that it barely sounded like such, finally broke the young woman's poise. Her expression flashed for a moment between uncertainty and suspicion. A mask of incredulity quickly settled into place, but not before Wednesday could notice the change. Debbie took a step forward on the creaking floorboards, forcing the girl to back towards the door.

"What a question!" she said in tones of clearly-false surprise.

"Why did you come here?" Wednesday fired back. By now, she was retreating almost of her own volition, grip tightening on the black-swathed bundle in her arms.

"Why, to take care of you," Debbie cooed, halting and stooping slightly to look Wednesday in the eye; "_All_ of you."

Without answering, Wednesday turned on her heel and walked the remaining distance back to the door unprompted. But she stopped in the doorway, resting one hand on the rotting, black-painted wood, and delivered the final verbal blow over her shoulder.

"Especially my uncle?"

She left the room without waiting for a reply.

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><p>A rapier whistled through the air and lodged, quivering, in the wall behind Pugsley's head. He blinked, eyes darting from the infant his sister held to her face.<p>

"What was that for?"

Wednesday's eyes narrowed as she shifted Cassandra's weight back to her throwing arm. "Pay attention when I'm talking to you." She nodded at the hatchet in his hand. "And put that down."

The rusted axe dropped to the floor with a dull clunk, but the chubby boy continued to scowl darkly at her. Crossing to the window, he roughly opened the dusty blinds and sat down at a large whetstone. As sparks began to fly from the blade of a large dagger, Wednesday yanked the blinds shut again with one hand.

"Don't let sunlight in when Cassandra's here," she scolded. Pugsley took his foot off the pedal and looked up, sneering at her.

"_Cassandra_. That's all you care about anymore, isn't it? Your baby _sister_." He punctuated the last word by stomping the pedal again. Another shower of sparks burned new holes in the already-ragged mauve curtains; Cassandra clapped her hands and reached for the tiny bits of fire. Wednesday obligingly stepped a bit closer to the whetstone.

"And," Pugsley continued, "now you're against Debbie, too? Geez, what, did she put the little maggot's diaper on too tight?"

Few people in the world can roll their eyes while said eyes are closed, but the oldest Addams child had mastered the skill. "Debbie's not just bad for Cassandra. She's dangerous- and not the good kind. Especially to Uncle Fester."

"Uncle Fester?" The stone slowly whirled to a stop. "What would she want with Uncle Fester?"

Her words seemed to have gotten his attention better than the rapier_. Have to consider that further._ She bounced the baby a bit to quiet her fussing, and said, "His money. I looked in her room, and found…"

And the whole sordid tale came out: how their new nanny had lured dozens of wealthy bachelors into a death trap. Pugsley's eyes grew wide as Wednesday related, over the course of an hour, what she'd learned through the newspaper and magazine clippings in Debbie's dungeon room. Wide, that is, with admiration rather than horror.

"Wow," he breathed when his sister shifted Cassandra in her arms once more and fell silent. "But what's wrong with that? She hasn't gotten caught, so-"

"So," the brunette cut him off sharply, "there's a pattern here. What man do we know who's rich, unmarried, and lonely?"

For a moment, the attic room was silent. Then:

"You think...she wants Uncle Fester?"

"No. I think she wants Uncle Fester's money."

Pugsley glared at her. "That's what I meant."

As Wednesday began to reply, a little ivory fist shot out of the black blankets and tugged at one of her braids. She frowned and shook her sister sharply. "Stop that."

A burst of quickly-stifled laughter made her look up, but the boy had already gone back to sharpening his dagger, a picture of youthful Addams innocence. Her dark eyes narrowed almost to slits, and she got up from the steamer trunk on which she'd sat down to tell her story.

"Debbie's trouble, and not the good kind," she said. "If you have any sense, you'll-"

But what Pugsley would do was lost forever as the door to the attic creaked open and she abruptly fell silent. Lithe and statuesque as ever, Morticia appeared at the top of the stairs. Though she was smiling, the expression seemed a bit strained.

"What is it, Mother?"

The black-clad femme fatale blinked rapidly, almost as if fighting tears. But her smile stayed in place. "Children, your father and I had a talk with Debbie some days ago. She told us about- about what you wanted to do this summer."

"What we want to do this summer?" Pugsley asked, slowly standing.

"Why, yes. You know...where you wanted to go. She claims you talk of nothing else. And your father and I have decided- well, what's the harm in it? Just this once." Contrary to her words, however, their mother seemed on the edge of a breakdown. Wednesday stepped forward, brow furrowed the tiniest bit in concern.

"Mother…"

"No, no, don't worry," Morticia continued, waving a hand dismissively. "You don't have to bother denying it; no-one's angry with you. It's natural to...er...want to try new things, especially at your age."

The older siblings exchanged glances. This sounded increasingly bad. Finally, Wednesday tried again.

"Mother, what are you talking about?"

The black-clad woman bit her lip, clearly struggling to maintain her serene expression. "Why, summer camp, of course."

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><p><strong>AN: ***insert Chippewa theme here* Take it away, Ellie!

Virtual sugar skulls to anyone who reviews. *waves plate of decorated Mexican candies enticingly*


	4. Chapter 4

**Author's note: Ok, Ellie, here back again for some more meddling with an awesome movie. But this time with WxL! DUN DUN DUN!**

The ancient, black Packard V12 made another turn on the windy forest road. The two adolescent passengers were both seriously considering all of the ways they could escape their dreaded fate. The boy was wondering if he were to break the window, would he be able to jump out? The eldest was suffering in silence(nothing new there). She was done trying to explain that Debbie had lied and she would rather eat a Reese's than go to a summer camp. The car approached a sign reading, 'Camp Chippewa'. Morticia said the name aloud, mild horror in her voice. Pugsley's curiosity brought him from his mildly suicidal thoughts.

"What's Chippewa?" he asked. His father was happy to know a partial answer to the question.

"It's an old Indian word." Wednesday mentally glared at the man. It was after all he and his wife's fault that this was happening to her and her little brother. Who knew what tortures they would face at this "Chippewa"? In fact, she would probably be blissfully dead before her parents realized their dreadful mistake of believing a tacky blonde woman who was probably going to kill Uncle Fester, over their own children. So she in no way regretted this statement.

"It means, Orphan."

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><p>Camp Chippewa was an average summer camp located near the small, Lake Chippewa. At this camp, children with parents who could afford the steep 20k tuition would make friends, go canoeing, and make an assortment of somewhat useless crafts. Owned and operated by Gary and Becky Granger, it was almost paradise for any twelve-year-old girl that had already gotten a nosejob.<p>

As the Addams family took in their environment, their reactions varied in different degrees of horror and disgust at all of the happy, fair-haired children giggling at each other's stories from the school year before. Gomez took out a cigar and put it in his mouth.

"Fresh air, the scent of PINE." he said in disgust, he was starting to regret sending his two oldest children to this...place. His wife also had done some inspecting of her own, but of course, she remained as calm and collected as always.

"Wednesday." she said to her daughter. "Look at all of the other children. Their freckles, their bright little eyes, their eager friendly smiles. Help them." She instructed her while Gomez lit Pugsley a cigar. Wednesday nodded her head once in understanding, but she already knew their was really nothing she could do for about eighty percent of the children around her. Especially the arrogant blonde girl in a floral dress approaching the black-clad family of macabre.

"Hi, I'm Amanda Buckman." She greeted them with a plastic smile. "Why are you dressed like that?" she asked boldly. Wednesday already knew this girl was going to be a problem from her past experiences with people of the "normal" variety at school. The ones that asked her anything, were either very brave, or very stupid. The line between the two is often blurred, so it's hard for her to tell with most people.

"Like what?" Wednesday asked without emotion.

"Like you're going to a funeral. Why are you dressed like somebody died?" Amanda specified. Wednesday put all of her chips on stupid.

"Wait." She said threateningly. The two girls were prevented from continuing to become acquainted with each other by Amanda's parents speaking to the adults and bragging about how smart their daughter was. If Wednesday were like any other twelve-year-old, she would have rolled her eyes.

Amanda's mother was about to say something when a boy jogged up to the group. He wasn't all that special. He looked like he had recently had a growth spurt and seemed clumsy on his almost too long legs. His short brown hair looked like it hadn't been combed and stuck out in all directions, though whether this was intentional or not was unknown. And his face was just mildly attractive. But when he and Wednesday looked into each other's eyes, the world almost seemed to stop around them. All that was missing was a spotlight, or a Greek chorus.

"Is there something you want, Lucas?" Amanda's voice broke their eye contact. He stammered his response.

"I-I put your stuff in your cabin like you told me to." Amanda stared at him for a few seconds.

"Ok, you can go now." she said and he reluctantly began to walk away.

"Amanda couldn't wait to come here, it's all she talked about. She's got a whole new wardrobe!" Amanda's mother said excitedly, completely disregarding Lucas' interrupting. She looked at Wednesday. "And this little lady?" she asked.

"Oh, Wednesday's at that very special age when a girl has only one thing on her mind." Morticia answered for her. Amanda's mother smiled and got down to Wednesday's level.

"Boys?" she asked teasingly. Wednesday's eyes darted to the retreating boy named Lucas, who happened to be looking over his shoulder at her, then to Amanda.

"Homicide."

**Reviews? Pretty please with a Lucas on top?**


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: **It's Eryn again. My ancestors spent thousands of years evolving for survival in cold, dimly-lit areas. It seems disrespectful of their hard work to be hanging around Florida, but I had no choice in the matter. However, I'm back in the chilly and overcast north now; hooray! And so, on with the chapter. It's a bit short; sorry. ^^"

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><p>"Lucas? Lucas…"<p>

A French-manicured hand waved in front of the gangly preteen's eyes, but he didn't even blink.

There was nothing special about the girl- no, that was a lie. From her paper-white skin to her severe black dress, _everything_ about her was special. And not in a good way. She was the antithesis of his blonde, wholesome-looking girlfriend.

So why couldn't he stop staring?

At age 12, Lucas Beineke was already resigned to a life of middle management. He spent school breaks doing clerical work at his father's company, made decent grades, and trudged off to Chippewa every summer. Since Amanda had deigned to date him, he'd been her loyal puppy in exchange for the occasional chaste kiss. Close to the top of life's ladder, but never actually in charge- that was Lucas.

But now he was still gazing at the strange girl, and she was dropping her chin slightly to meet his stare. Neither of them heard a word the overly perky directors were saying. Or at least, he didn't, and she didn't seem to be paying attention, either…

"Lucas!" A sharp tug at his sleeve brought the boy back to reality. Amanda was glaring at him, one eyebrow raised.

"Why didn't you clap for Gary and Debbie?" she demanded, hands on her hips.

Lucas stammered for a moment; her face was an unpleasant shock after looking at the other girl for so long. "I…um…got distracted. Sorry."

With a pout, his girlfriend tossed her long hair so that it shimmered in the June sunlight. "Distracted by what, Lucas? Did I see you _staring_ at another girl?"

"No!" he said hurriedly. Glancing at the central platform to make sure the counselors were otherwise occupied, he pulled her into his arms and kissed her cheek.

"Baby, why would I ever look at another girl? Especially that freak in black."

But she pulled away, falling into a chilly silence until an equally tanned girl with platinum curls pulled her away to change and gossip. After a few minutes, Lucas' stomach knotted. Amanda, he realized, had never specified which girl.

_Crap._

"Wednes? Wednesday, hello?"

Something was wrong with Pugsley's sister. Ever since they'd entered the stereotypically "rustic" cabin where her suitcase lay on a floral-quilted bed, the oldest Addams child had done nothing but stare into space.

_Great. We're at the gates of hell, and all she can say is-_

"Lucas," the girl muttered quietly.

"What?"

She blinked, seeming to notice the world around her for the first time since orientation had ended. "Nothing."

"Right. Nothing," her brother replied with a snort. Crossing to the window, he pushed back one baby blue curtain and stared grimly at the sunlit forest outside. A few of Wednesday's blonde, tanned cabinmates raised eyebrows at the presence of a boy in their domain, but the look on his sister's face kept them at bay.

_He's right_, she thought, mentally shaking herself. _This is no time to be thinking about…_

And just like that, an acne-spotted face framed by untidy brown hair swam into view in her mind's eye. She knew next to nothing about the average-looking boy, besides his name and that he was practically Amanda's property. But for some reason, the young Addams couldn't forget the jolt that had gone through her when their eyes met, and the way he'd looked at her as if nothing else existed.

With a sickening shock, Wednesday realized that she wanted to see this Lucas again. Maybe even talk to him. _Oh, no._ It couldn't be. Things like this only happened to silly, vapid girls like those now cooing over Amanda's new diamond earrings.

A heavy sigh brought her once more back to reality. Gazing at her from his place near the window, Pugsley shook his head sadly and resumed his limited reconnaissance.

Wednesday heaved herself off the bed and set to unpacking. Ignoring the bemused stares from the others as she placed one identical black dress after another in the low dresser, she struggled to regain control of her thoughts.

No Lucas. No strange, unwelcome feelings. She had to focus, or they'd never get out of here; god only knew what Debbie would do in their absence.

_Get back home and save Uncle Fester. That's all that matters._

Savagely shoving the whitewashed drawer back into place (and unknowingly causing a large crack to form in one side of the dresser), she went to pull Pugsley away from the window. It was time to plan their escape.

But a tiny part of her mind was still in that appallingly sunny clearing with the mysterious Lucas.

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><p><strong>AN:** Well, this can't be good…or can it? ;)

Loved it? Hated it? Indifferent? Please review!


	6. Chapter 6

**Author's Note: Ok, so this took longer to write than I expected. Who knew that I would actually have less time on my hands during spring break? Anyways, on with the story.**

Bang bang bang! A fist pounded on the cabin's bathroom door.

"Come on, Wednesday we need go down to the dock!" Amanda Buckman's voice called to the person in the bathroom. The girl she was referring to was currently staring at herself in the mirror. In all actuality, she looked the exact same as she had the day before. Same brown eyes, same loose-leaf skin, same braided black hair, same dull facial expression. She had no idea why she suddenly wondered if her hair would look better in another style, or if a new dress that didn't cover up ninety percent of her body might not be such a bad thing. Well, technically, she new exactly the reason, and his name was L-U-C-A-S, but admitting to that would be blasphemy.

She sighed at her incredibly old-fashioned bathing suit that had been completely useless until now, and it would probably remain useless because there was no way she was getting in the water. Her incredibly obnoxious cabinmate pounded on the door again.

"Go without me!" Wednesday yelled impatiently. Wednesday swore she heard Amanda grumble something about wishing she could. "Fine, then just give me two minutes." Wednesday said reluctantly and began to change into the bathing suit. She turned in the mirror. Not the least bit flattering, and to top it off, she had to cake on an incredible amount of SPF 60 sunscreen to avoid looking like a burn victim within twenty minutes. She didn't care what her mother said. She would never be pretty like Amanda. Never catch the eye of someone like Lucas.

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><p>"Wednesd-" Amanda began to yell impatiently and was cut off by the door swinging open, nearly hitting her in the face. She followed her outcast roommate to the dock where they joined the army of orange one-pieces. To Amanda's dismay, all of the other girls had paired up, and she was left with the possible boyfriend-stealing, goth chick who would probably end up hanging herself by the end of the summer because Lucas would turn her down and not read the stalker letters she would write in her own blood.<p>

Luckily her friends were understanding of the situation and let them go to the front of the line so they could get this over with as soon as possible. As they all assembled in their pairs on the dock, the ever-so-peppy, Gary blew his whistle.

"Lifesaving! Now I know we're all top-notch swimmers, but now we get to show our stuff and earn those certificates!" He began to do he and his wife's ridiculous hopping thing which induced an eye roll from three off the campers. One of them, was slightly relieved to be distracted from looking at the ominous lake water that looked incredibly deep and probably had an array of algae. If she had been able to swim, Wednesday would have been thrilled to jump in, but this was not the case, so hidden beneath her ever-present solemn demeanor, she was terrified. Genuinely terrified.

"Hey, how about our first little pair of lifesaving buddies? Amanda, Wednesday?" Gary continued. Wednesday's breath hitched as she and Amanda stepped forward. Her mood was not lightened by a comment from the blonde to her left.

"Is that your bathing suit?" Wednesday took no time to come up with a counter.

"Is that your overbite?" Amanda knew no way to respond. She looked forward at the line of boys to see if Lucas had heard it. To her utter annoyance, he was too busy talking about something pointless with the boy he'd been partnered with a few rows from the front.

"Now, one of you will be the drowning victim, and the other one gets to be our lifesaver!" Gary explained to the two girls with a smile, the joy in his voice never faltering. Amanda decided to stop sulking and jumped at an opportunity.

"I'll be the victim!" She volunteered. That way, she wouldn't have to save the freak girl, and Lucas would worry about her safety.

"All your life." Wednesday retorted. Amanda didn't allow it to bring her down.

"I'm going to be an actress." She bragged to Gary and the rest of the campers present.

"Brava!" The supervising adult cheered. "Now, Amanda, jump in, swim out a few yards, and start drowning." He explained. Amanda did not hesitate to jump in. As soon as she hit the water, she began thrashing about and melodramatically yelled,

"Help me! Help me! I'm drowning!" On the dock, Gary was clearly impressed. This was her opportunity to show off her amazing acting abilities to him. Everyone knew that he began to cast the end-of-summer musicals from day one. "Help me! I'm dying!" She yelled before taking a deep breath and going under the water. Amanda then began to prepare herself for her grand rescue scene, it was going to be some of her finest work. She just hoped freaky Wednesday wouldn't screw it up. But even if she did, it would just show how great she herself was in comparison.

Actually, she began to wonder what was taking so long. She let out some of the air from her lungs. But seriously, shouldn't she have been saved by then? Her felt herself getting just a tad lightheaded. Forget being a great actress, she was not about to actually drown because of a weird girl with no fashion sense.

Amanda propelled herself up to the water's surfaced and gasped for air. She wiped the water from her eyes and looked up at the dock. Wednesday was already on the beach, retreating to the cabin, and all of the people on the dock were dead silent. Well, all but one. She pulled herself onto the dock to find her boyfriend of all people, laughing his head off.

"Lucas!" She shouted angrily at him angrily and he instantly quieted. "What _exactly_ is so funny about me almost DROWNING?" She asked him. Lucas' bit his lip and his face quickly turned a shade of red. His eyes darted from Amanda to Wednesday, who had almost made it to her cabin. He couldn't take it anymore and went into another fit of laughter.

**I think I have some incentive to get you all to review. *Places adorable plush Easter bunny in front of computer and holds BB gun to it's head* REVIEW OR THE BUNNY GETS IT!**


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N**: It's Eryn again! My life is procrastination right now, so let's hope writing this chapter staves off total brain death. Thanks to everyone who's reviewed so far. You're all great. :)

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><p><em>Twenty-five steps. <em>

Lucas could see her sitting at one of the rickety wooden tables that lined the Craft Hut, intent on her work with one slender leg tucked under her. Twenty-five steps, give or take a few, from where he stood by the supply closet; it wasn't a vast distance. Barely anything, really. All he had to do was cross it, touch her shoulder, and say…

What? The 12-year-old smacked his forehead against the closet door in frustration. Because that was the problem. Wednesday Addams was hardly the kind of girl one just walked up to and started a conversation.

"Especially not with Amanda-"

But a shriek near the screen door cut off his mutterings. "Ow! Gary!"

Glancing out into the room, Lucas spotted his girlfriend flailing one hand hysterically; her face was bright red and contorted with pain. The co-director paused in belittling Esther Bellamy's collage to rush to Amanda's side.

"Amanda? Honey, what's wrong?" he asked, catching the proffered hand and examining it.

"I…I…" The blonde seemed unable to speak. Instead, she gestured to the table, where a red plastic stapler sat next to her unidentifiable art project. Gary's eyes widened in understanding.

He scrutinized her middle finger. "Oh, dear. Yes, I see it. Don't worry, sweetheart; we'll have that out before you can say 'boo'."

With that, Gary let the still-sniffling girl out the door (presumably to the infirmary), and the room once more filled with the hum of chatter. Lucas glanced furtively across the crowded hut; a brief look was enough to ascertain that Wednesday was still there. As she dipped her brush a bit too forcefully in a jar of red paint, he swallowed hard.

Most adolescents had a flair for theatrics, and this boy was no exception. _It has to be a sign._ Why else would Amanda, usually so graceful and perfectly coordinated, have stapled her finger? Some higher power was telling him to follow his-

Lucas clamped down on the thought before it reached the word "heart." Friendship, and nothing more, was what he wanted with Wednesday. Even that made little enough sense, let alone-

_Damn._ There his mind went again. Clearly, the best thing to do was just to close his eyes and take the leap of faith. After all, hadn't someone said, "Nothing ventured, nothing gained?"

Judging by the loud bang from the corner table, something had exploded. Lucas glanced over to see Wednesday staring, annoyed, at her brother, who was sooty-faced and appeared to be missing an eyebrow. A cloud of smoke billowed from a charred ring in the center of the table. The nearest campers scooted further away, eyeing the spot anxiously.

He mentally amended the previous thought. Whoever said that had been an idiot. An idiot who'd never met the Addamses. But there was nothing else for it. Taking a deep breath, he started towards the smoking table.

When he was about five steps away, without looking up, she spoke.

"If you're trying to be covert, it's not working."

And suddenly, the whole thing seemed like a terrible idea. Alarm bells rang like crazy in the preteen's mind; all he could think was, _Abort! Abort!_ His feet, though, refused to move, and he felt his mouth open.

"How can you hear me?" The words were out before he could register them, and he groaned inwardly. Few more idiotic responses came to mind; now she'd think…he didn't know what, but it couldn't be good.

Setting down her paintbrush carefully, the black-clad girl looked up at him. "I'm not deaf," she said, completely deadpan. "And the floor squeaks."

Of course. His fellow campers had been complaining about the floor in the Craft Hut for years- mostly the older boys who had girlfriends. Now that he fell into that category, he'd expected to be bothered by it, too. But not like this.

"Right." Embarrassed by the sudden silence, Lucas ran a hand through his hair and tried again. "Hey, I think we got off on the wrong foot earlier. I'm Lucas Beineke."

Wednesday stared at him for a moment. "I've never spoken to you."

"What?"

"I've never spoken to you. So how can we have gotten off on the wrong foot?" Dipping the brush back in the crimson paint, she returned to her artwork (which Lucas couldn't help noticing seemed to involve very energetic strokes of red).

He should have shut up. The proper thing to do in this situation was to shut up, walk away, and accept defeat. But then, "proper" wasn't as concrete in his mind as it had been.

One dirty sneaker traced a pattern on the floor. "But I've seen you. You know, in lifesaving class and at the archery range."

The paintbrush was slammed to the table, but Wednesday didn't look up. "The lifesaving class that made your girlfriend decide it was her mission to make my life hell? Not that she doesn't do that without trying."

"Hey," he replied, frustration erasing his embarrassment, "that wasn't my fault. And don't talk about Amanda like-"

"Like what?" She cut him off, standing. "Honestly?"

Lucas took another step towards her, ignoring every nonverbal signal that suggested she was about to go for the throat. "You don't even know her." It was a weak response, and something traitorous in his mind whispered that the strange girl might know Amanda better than he did.

After staring at him for a long, tense few seconds, Wednesday sniffed. "I know enough. And I know you're just like her."

For some reason, this comment aroused the anger that insulting Amanda hadn't. "Fine. If you want to judge people without giving them a chance, be my guest."

With that, he turned on his heel and stormed out of the Craft Hut, not even bothering to finish his macramé pencil holder.

* * *

><p>"No. Please don't."<p>

Two days after the Craft Hut incident, Lucas stood beside his bed in the boys' cabin. Gary Granger regarded him with a grim expression, and shook his head.

"I'm sorry, Lucas, but behavior like this…you leave me no choice."

The boy swallowed hard and wiped his palms on his khaki shorts. "Gary, please. I- I didn't mean it. It won't happen again, I promise."

The co-director sighed. "I just can't bear to see a bright young man like you go down a bad path. No, this has to be corrected as quickly and firmly as possible. I'm afraid it's going to have to be…"

Lucas held his breath. Even though he knew what was coming, a ray of hope still shone through the dark clouds quickly gathering in his mind. Maybe Gary would be merciful and just give him extra dishwashing duty.

"…the Harmony Hut."

Or maybe not.

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><p><strong>AN:** Dun dun dunnnnn! Take it away, Ellie!


	8. Chapter 8

**Author's note:**

**This has taken forever, and I'm really sorry. My plot bunnies have become very lazy and only want to write one-shots. But, this chapter is a lot longer than my others, so yay. Alright, enjoy some genuine little!WxL.**

Pugsley glanced at his sister for what seemed like the fiftieth time in the past hour. Usually this would be her cue to come up with something brilliant that would get them out of this torture hut and possibly leave the camp as nothing but a crater next to the lake. But no, she was just sitting there, eyes fixed on the wall and slightly glazed over. This must have been how she was coping with what appeared to be a hopeless situation. It was actually rather shocking that their ultimate downfall would be in the form of two cheery camp counselors that were all for the psychological torture of twelve-year-olds.

Speaking of, the posters on the walls were starting to make his brain hurt. Everything was about staying positive and never giving up, and it made him want to drown himself in a bucket of battery acid. So maybe Wednesday was onto something with zoning out everything. He was about to follow suit when she rubbed her eyes with her hands.

"Pugsley, I think it's time we got out of here." Wednesday's brother jumped slightly at her sudden return to consciousness.

"Yes, that's what I've been saying for a week!" Pugsley agreed with her and jumped up from his place. "Let's do this right now!" Wednesday didn't even attempt to stop him from running over to one of the windows and connecting his fist to the glass. Wednesday sighed at the sound of Pugsley's shriek after it failed to shatter.

"Safety glass." She told him without sympathy. Pugsley dragged his feet and sat back down next to her. "Clearly, if we're going to get out of here, we need a plan that's better than breaking a window and running for it. You know for a fact that there are campers around every corner just waiting to turn us in to Gary and Becky the minute we do something suspicious."

"Then we break out at night, when everyone else is asleep." Pugsley suggested. Wednesday shook her head.

"Not good enough. There's no way we're getting out of here alone."

"Then I guess we aren't getting out." Pugsley said, defeated and crossed his arms. He was only able to remain silent before getting irritated within a few minutes. "How long do we have to stay in here?" Asked Pugsley, just wanting more than anything to be back home with his chemistry set and Aristotle. Wednesday knew the answer to his question and wasted no time at all to tell him,

"Until we crack." Straightforward and true, just like everything else that Wednesday said. Neither had time to say anything else, because the cabin door swung open, and a certain gangly boy by the name of Lucas was pushed in by Gary.

"I'll be back for you tonight." He said to Lucas with a hint of false sympathy in his voice. He then turned to Pugsley and Wednesday.

"Behave yourselves." Was all he said to them before vacating the cabin. The sound of a lock turning from outside was barely audible. The newest prisoner was still standing at the far end of the room, fixated on a scuff mark on the toe of his shoe when Pugsley got curious.

"What are you doing here?" Asked Pugsley. He was surprised his sister hadn't jumped at the opportunity to speak to the painfully ordinary boy standing before them. She did kind of have a look on her face that screamed, 'oh no, it's _you_.' But maybe it was a sign that his sister did not indeed have feelings for Lucas, which would make his life so much easier.

"It's kind of complicated." Said Lucas, still looking down at his feet. By the way Wednesday sighed, you could practically hear her roll her eyes. One thing Wednesday couldn't stand was people beating around the bush.

"We have practically unlimited time, what did you do?" She asked.

"Wrote some stuff." Lucas mumbled and leaned against the back wall. Knowing that she probably wouldn't get any more information out of Lucas without objects of torture, Wednesday went back to being quiet, while Pugsley resorted to giving Lucas a death glare. Feeling increasingly uncomfortable, Lucas tried to break the awkward silence and steer the direction of the conversation away from himself.

"So what did you guys do?" He asked.

"We refused to partake in a 'group hug' after your girlfriend insulted our family." Wednesday broke in before Pugsley got the chance to say something similar. Lucas didn't try to defend Amanda, because he probably knew it was perfectly in-character for her to do something like that.

"They put you in here all day for not hugging people?" He asked in disbelief.

"Among other things. Are you really surprised?" Wednesday asked, looking at the ceiling. "You know as well as the rest of this camp that we're Gary and Becky's personal project." Pugsley waited for some pathetic denial from the guy, but all he got was a sigh. At least he wasn't an optimist.

"So…what have you guys been doing in here?" Lucas asked and looked around to only find a Michael Jackson poster that made him flinch.

"Planning our escape." Pugsley blurted out, only half-joking. His sister drove her elbow into his rib cage.

"Really?" Lucas asked, eyebrows raised.

"No." Wednesday stated flatly. "As much as I would like to, and believe me, we need to get out of here to save our uncle; we can't. It's nearly impossible with eyes constantly on us." She explained and was rather surprised she felt she could confide in this boy she'd only met once or twice.

"What do you mean, 'save your uncle'? Lucas asked while taking a few steps towards the couch Wednesday and Pugsley were sitting on.

"He's engaged to a golddigging succubus, and we need to stop her." Wednesday's face made it seem like this kind of thing wasn't extremely odd at all.

"What's a succubus?" Pugsley asked, causing his sister to roll her eyes. Lucas jumped at the chance to impress Wednesday.

"A succubus in medieval times was a demon that had sex with men while they were sleeping, but the term is usually used now to describe women that are horrible to their husbands." He explained to Pugsley.

"Very good." Wednesday commended him, rather relieved to be around someone of somewhat equal intelligence for once. "So do you understand why we need to break out?"

"Yes, but I don't think it'll be quite as impossible as you think." Lucas said confidently.

"Oh, how so?" Wednesday asked.

"Well, I could help you." He suggested. "You know, I could distract everyone or something." Wednesday jumped up from the couch and began pacing like she did when she was under a lot of stress, or was thinking of a plan. Pugsley felt unbelievably left out. In five minutes, he'd gone from being his sister's confidant, to the third wheel. Wednesday stopped her pacing abruptly.

"I've got it!"

* * *

><p>Wednesday crept out of her bed oh so slowly, just hoping not a single floorboard creaked beneath her feet as she made her way to the cabin door. From what she'd experienced, the perky girls she'd been sharing a cabin with all were terribly light sleepers, especially their leader. She'd reached the door now and reached into her pocket for the oil pen Gary and Becky had overlooked in their search and seizure of a large majority of her possessions. With the hinges taken care of, she reached out and opened the door, so relieved at how quiet it was. She closed the door behind her and began creeping in the shadows of the camp's building to get to the designated meeting place.<p>

During Wednesday's journey, a few thoughts crept their way into her mind. _You can't trust him_. Lucas was one of them, who's to say he hadn't told Gary and Becky about their plan and she was about to walk into an ambush? She tried to push the thought from her mind, he wouldn't do that. _He could. You don't know him._

Her conscience was right, she didn't know him. There was no reason to trust him. All he was, was an idiotic boy that- wrote, and came up with really good escape plans and…wasn't _terrible_ looking. _You like him._

If one could hit the voice in the back of their head, hers would have been now.

* * *

><p>Lucas looked around nervously for the hundredth time in the past five minutes. He still had a chance to run back to his cabin and get back into bed without anyone knowing he was gone. He could avoid getting punished and probably labeled as an outcast by the entire camp. All he had to do was walk away. But he couldn't. What he had written that got him into the Harmony Hut was straight from the heart, and if he believed his heart, then he knew he couldn't leave them. He couldn't leave <em>her<em>.

It made no sense at all, but he felt like he finally got those stupid romantic comedies his mom had forced him to watch_. _Perfectly normal guys with normal lives, that fall for girls completely out of their league that are kind of quirky and unique.

But of course, that wasn't Wednesday. Wednesday was something words couldn't describe Wednesday was- wearing a ninja costume. He had to blink a few times to make sure he wasn't imagining this, but there she was, like a villain right out of a Jackie Chan movie.

"I thought I told you to dress in dark clothes." she whispered harshly. Lucas looked down at his outfit that consisted of jeans and a navy pullover.

"We can't all be ninjas!" He whispered back. Lucas then noticed a lack of chubby boy. "Where's your brother?" he asked.

"I haven't heard any alarms, so he should be on his way." Right on cue, Pugsley ran up to them, wearing an outfit identical to Wednesday's. If they were anyone else, it would have confused him.

"Ok, lets go!" Wednesday ordered, and led the boys the rest of the way to the fence. She and Lucas were much faster than Pugsley, and she'd already gotten her fingers into the chain link before turning her head. "Hurry up!" She called to Pugsley.

"I'm coming!" He said back, finally grabbing the fence. Wednesday breathed a sigh of relief, the last thing she wanted was to have to leave her brother behind. Who else would she torture? Cassandra? She looked up at the barbed wire at the top. This would hurt, but she could do it.

"Here." Lucas said and knelt down to position his hands to give Wednesday a boost. For once, her pride didn't get the best of her and before she knew it, she was nearly to the top of the fence. And then the lights and the sirens came on. Stunned, Wednesday's fingers slipped and Lucas knew she would fall. he reacted faster than he knew he could, and managed to catch her in the most ungraceful way possible, nearly falling over himself. There were flashlights aimed at his face and the rather loud mob of campers led by Gary and Becky came into view.

"Put me down!" Wednesday whispered angrily, and Lucas let her go.

"There they are, I saw them sneak out!" He heard the voice of Amanda say behind one of the blinding flashlights that his eyes had yet to get used to. Amanda's voice sounded as vengeful as ever. Two boys that Lucas recognized from a few activities marched up to Wednesday and Pugsley like good little mindless automatons and ripped off their masks before rejoining the mob.

"Children, what do you think you're doing?" Gary asked in his authority figure tone of voice. It might have scared a few of the campers, but certainly not the Addams children.

"We have to see our family. It's very important." Wednesday, fearlessly told them the truth.

"More important than a summer of fun? More important than making new friends? More important than sharing?" Becky spoke as if they were four-year-olds. Lucas rolled his eyes, they really couldn't be that dumb, could they? Suddenly, Gary's eyes were on him.

"And Lucas Beineke, I am appalled!" Lucas felt everyone's gaze on him, but tried to stay strong, and think of something other than admitting to helping the Addamses escape because he kind of had a thing for Wednesday.

"They just want to go home, I was only trying to help." He said weakly. He heard a few guys snicker, and a few of Amanda's friends gasp. This must have been a real scandal to them. Amanda's eyes met his, and suddenly her shocked look at Lucas turned into a glare aimed at Wednesday.

"I think they should be punished." She said loudly, and then began to chant, "Punish! Punish!" The other orange-clad campers then joined in,

"Punish! Punish! Punish! Punish! Punish!" After a short while, Becky felt the need to stop this.

"No! No!" She yelled to shut them up. "We are not here to punish. We are here to inspire." Amanda smiled smugly.

"Campers, you know what I think our little ninja friends here need?" Asked Gary. "Know what just might turn their sad and potentially wasted little lives right on around?" Everyone remained quiet until he had an acoustic guitar and began to lead everyone in song.

_Kumbaya, my Lord, kumbaya…_

Wednesday and Pugsley at first glanced at each other, not quite sure this was actually happening.

_Kumbaya, my Lord, kumbaya…_

Lucas swore he could hear a wolf howl in the distance.

_Kumbaya, my Lord, kumbaya… Oh, Lord, kumbaya._

As the overly-sweet song sank in, a look of genuine horror came across Wednesday's face as she backed into the fence, reaching behind to grab it. She didn't dare let go.

**That's one of my favorite parts of the movie, and I hope I did it justice. Did I? Do you enjoy shipping adorable little odd couples? Review! Oh, and if you don't, I'll…..make some Nutella brownies and eat them in front of you all, and you can't have any. Ha! (No, but seriously, I have a review addiction).**


	9. Chapter 9

**A/N: **What's the best thing to do at 5:45 AM? Write!

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><p>The full moon's light glinted off the still surface of the lake. A chorus of crickets sang in the grass, punctuated by soft birdsong from the trees along the shore. It was, in short, a perfect summer night.<p>

_If I have to be locked out of the cabin, now's not such a bad time,_ Wednesday thought. Shifting position on the lakeside bench, she twisted the end of one braid around her finger and considered how best to avenge herself on Amanda's cronies.

Suddenly, a loud crack cut through the gentle hum of night noises. Pausing in her contemplation of hair, superglue, and combinations thereof, the girl glanced over her shoulder- and groaned.

It would be him. Out of all the adolescent boys who could be standing behind her with sheepish looks on their faces, it would be Lucas Beineke.

"What are you doing?" she asked, half-turning to face him.

His expression became slightly panicked. "Not so loud!" he whispered with an anxious glance at the dark clusters of cabins.

"They can't hear us. Not from down here."

With a sigh, the boy relaxed. He ran a hand through his already-messy hair, rumpling it further.

"I got locked out. It was probably an accident, but…" Lucas trailed off. Wednesday made a sound that, had she been anyone else, might have been a snort.

"Right. After what happened three nights ago, it was an accident." She cocked an eyebrow. "Keep telling yourself that."

And then, what had to be a temporary madness seized the oldest Addams child. Scooting over a bit, she gestured to the worn pine planks beside her.

"Come sit down."

What was she doing? This was Lucas, after all. Lucas, Amanda's boyfriend. Lucas who'd roused unwelcome feelings in her, insulted her, stood against her with the rest of the imbeciles in this hellhole-

_And tried to help you escape_, a voice whispered in the back of her mind. The bench creaked as he sat down beside her. _And caught you when you fell. And held you…_

"So." Lucas would never know how grateful she was to have that train of thought derailed.

"So."

They sat in silence for a few moments, staring out at the lake. Once or twice, Wednesday thought she saw Lucas watching her out of the corner of her eye. But no. There was no way he was sneaking glances at her when he thought she wasn't looking. Not that she knew anything about that.

Finally, she spotted a small, blue notebook in his hand. It stirred something in her memory.

"…_Wrote some stuff."_

"You're a writer?" she asked, trying not to appear too interested.

The skinny boy jumped slightly at the sound of her voice. "Oh, um…yeah, I guess so," he replied.

She was looking at him in earnest now. "What do you write?"

"Poetry, mostly." He began idly thumbing through the college-ruled pages. "Do you like poetry at all?"

"Some," came the terse reply. Her brown eyes were once more fixed on the lake, watching a duck with careful nonchalance.

"My favorite is that one by Tennyson, _The Kraken_." As if only half-aware of what he was saying, Lucas began to speak.

"Below the thunders of the upper deep;  
>Far, far beneath in the abysmal sea,<br>His ancient, dreamless, uninvaded sleep  
>The Kraken sleepeth…"<p>

Had anyone been watching the bench, they'd have seen one silhouetted figure scoot closer to the other.

* * *

><p>In a world with any justice, this wouldn't be happening. Then again, Wednesday hadn't had much cause to believe in justice lately.<p>

Or rather, she grudgingly amended, it would be happening under different circumstances. Lucas was a friend; that much she could admit to herself now. There were some things that automatically implied friendship, and helping them try to escape- not to mention taking the resulting fall with them- was high on the list.

So, as a friend, she wouldn't have minded spending time with him more often. But crouched in the darkness of the infirmary next to a dangling plaster model of a skeleton, the preteen wished for the dozenth time that the reason for this meeting was different.

From out of the gloom nearby came a creak, followed by a muffled curse and the sound of glass shattering against the floorboards. Peering out from her hiding place, Wednesday could see a skinny figure near the door.

"Lucas?" she called, raising her voice as loud as she dared.

"It's me," came the reply. "Where are you?"

"Over here."

"Where?"

She sighed, standing up. "Here, by the skeleton."

The boy approached her, finally stopping in a patch of moonlight by the window. His eyes remained focused on a point around her chin, which was admittedly an improvement from the floor, his shoes, or a spider in the grass.

"I got your message inside my cutlet," he said. "Which was impressive, by the way. How'd you get it in there?"

She ignored his question and said urgently, "I need to ask you something. Do you believe in the existence of evil?"

Lucas snorted, meeting her eyes for the first time she could remember. "If you'd met my dad, you wouldn't have to ask.

A memory floated through her mind, of a dour-looking man in a suit talking sternly to Lucas on the first day of camp. He was probably right. But there were more pressing issues at hand.

"My uncle's getting married," Wednesday continued, eyes flashing. "To this woman in a white uniform."

"A psychiatric hospital assistant?" Lucas guessed. His tentative friend shook her head.

"A nanny."

And here came the hard part. If she was a girl like Amanda, blonde, tanned, and convinced the world existed for her amusement, it probably would have been easy. Girls like that could wrap boys around their fingers without even trying; a simple invitation was child's play to them. Wednesday had known every loophole in the New York state arson laws by age seven, but talking to the opposite sex- besides her brother- was a mystery.

Glancing away with practiced carelessness, she said, "But I have to go the wedding. I have a pass…do you want to come?"

There was a moment of silence, during which she was sure it had all gone wrong. The boy would laugh in her face and head back to his cabin, wondering why he'd wanted anything to do with her in the first place.

But then, Lucas…smiled. "Well, it'd be nice to get out of this place for a while."

"Yes, exactly. You helped us, so it's the least I can do," she said hurriedly, silently thanking him for providing the perfect excuse.

"Thanks. I'd love to go."

* * *

><p>The wedding itself was less than impressive. Usual mass of black-clad relatives with various birth defects, Morticia subtly trying to hog all the attention, Lurch playing a dirge-like march on the organ…nothing Wednesday hadn't seen before. Debbie was radiant, all pale gold curls, pink cheeks, and cleavage in her low-cut satin gown. And consequently, Fester was a blubbering mess.<p>

Seeing her uncle reduced to this, the young girl wanted to drop her basket of rose petals and go for the gold-digger's throat. But as the bald groom sobbed through his elaborate vows- and the bride replied with a shrugged, "Ditto,"- she held her peace.

_Not now. Wait until the opportune moment._

As a distraction, she gazed out at the crowd. In the front row of seats, Granny bounced Cassandra on her lap while the baby gnawed on what looked like a human rib. Three rows back sat Lucas, slightly out of place in his modern, navy blue suit.

_Still doesn't understand "wear dark colors,"_ Wednesday thought, before realizing with a jolt that the young poet wasn't looking at the happy couple. He was staring straight at her.

Despite the urge to look away, she bit her lip and held his gaze, trying to ignore the strange feeling in the pit of her stomach.

After the ceremony, the guests gathered on the crumbling front steps to send off the newlyweds on their honeymoon. Debbie elbowed her way through the crowd first, holding her lavender pillbox hat on with one hand and still clutching her bouquet in the other. Fester followed, catching her elbow just as she was about to step into their "getaway car."

"Darling," he gushed, "let's see who's the next happy bride!"

Standing in the center of the crowd, Wednesday could swear she saw the new bride roll her eyes and give an exasperated sigh. But the blonde obligingly turned and tossed the mass of white roses and ribbon backwards over her shoulder.

One minute, all female eyes- and a few male- were fixed on the falling flowers. Then, the oldest Addams child found herself in the middle of a crush of bodies; shouts of "Me, me!" "I've got it!" and "Oh please god no! Not the ice pick! Aaaah!" filled the night air.

When the dust settled and the crowd drew back, she somehow found herself holding the bouquet- and trying very hard to forget about Lucas' presence at her side.

"Well, I guess we know who's next in line," a disgruntled maiden aunt sniffed.

Wednesday swallowed hard. "It's not binding."

"Tramp," someone snapped behind her.

She glanced at Lucas, opening her mouth to make a snarky comment…only to catch him waggling his eyebrows at her in an apparent attempt to join the teasing. And with that, it all became too much.

Gently setting the bouquet down on the steps, the black-clad girl raised a hand and slapped him. But it didn't escape her notice, afterwards, that he had a slightly dreamy look on his face.

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><p><strong>AN:** Ah, young love. You know the drill, readers- please leave a review on your way out. :)


	10. Chapter 10

**Ellie here with another supermegafoxyawesomehot author's note. Yeah, I'm giving you guys a fair warning that this chapter is a little, well, insane. But never fear, it's at least funny (or it was when Eryn and I came up with it). Then again, so was replacing every swear word in Next to Normal with derp...  
><strong>

**Anyways, on with the insanity!**

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><p>Lucas began to spend more and more time with Wednesday and Pugsley over the next week or so. The people that he used to think were his friends now treated him just like they did the Addamses, with them either completely avoiding him, or finding subtle ways to mess with him. It was a horrible feeling, but he had to admit that holding intelligent conversation with Wednesday was a lot better than talking about clothes bought at the Gap with people that could and did abandon him in a heartbeat.<p>

Unbeknownst to him, Gary and Becky had tried several times to get the other children, Amanda especially, to be nice to him. To them, they felt they had a chance to turn him back into a model citizen before he was too far gone. But unfortunately for them, their otherwise brainwashed kids chose to ignore this request.

The Addams children had problems of their own, what with their worst fears of having Satan's mistress kill, or do something much worse to their uncle becoming a reality. Even though it had been him that wrote them the letter that told them of his abandonment, they both knew that this was all a part of Debbie's scheme to seduce him, and then do whatever she wishes. It probably had to do with the family fortune. It always did when it came to people scheming against the family.

Wednesday and Pugsley still managed to find time to have different opinions on the subject of Lucas being around. Pugsley on one hand saw Lucas as a bit of an intruder who stared at Wednesday way too much, and had an annoying habit of switching between modern lingo, and something that sounded like it came from a guy sitting at a typewriter in the nineteenth century. In contrast, Wednesday's feelings were unclear to those under the age of twelve, and she found herself conflicted between them, and what she'd always been taught. She herself didn't even know what was keeping her from going mad.

But, despite the conflict, the three preteens found themselves spending a camp assembly behind the bleachers together, none really caring what Gary and Becky had to say. Wednesday decided to take the free time to try to figure out some sort of solution to the Debbie problem while Pugsley reluctantly showed Lucas his Kleptos & Serial Killers trading card collection.

"Hey wait, I think I got a pack of those once!" Wednesday heard Lucas exclaim before throwing the lid off of a shoebox full of sports cards. She rolled her eyes as the boys began to dig through them to find what they were looking for. She listened to the stage for anything important, but it was all about camp activities and other nonsense. Suddenly, she heard Pugsley gasp. She turned to her brother sitting on the opposite side of Lucas from her, as he found one of the unique cards in Lucas' box.

"Wednes, look at this!" He said to her and passed the card across Lucas to her. On it, there was a picture of a woman with an uncanny resemblance to Debbie, with the title, "The Black Widow". Proof.

"It might be Debbie." She stated and turned the card over for further information. To her annoyance, Lucas was reading over her shoulder.

"It seems likely, considering your uncle seems to be her type." The personal space intruder concluded.

"I'll trade you!" Pugsley told Lucas, already flipping through his cards to find something he was willing to part with.

"No way." Lucas declined, and put the card back in the box while Pugsley glared. Wednesday sighed and checked back in on the assembly. Becky was naming off a few kids that usually were ignored by the counselors.

"Mordecai, Yang, Esther, Consuela, Erwin," And after a bit of struggling with the pronunciation, Gary helped her with,

"Jamal." Wednesday rolled her eyes. Becky then continued.

"Whatever. And as their leader, in the secondary, but still compellingly written role of Pocahontas, guess who we have in mind?" It seemed as though they were casting something. "Our own little brunette outcast," Oh no. "Wednesday Addams." Wednesday could feel pure fear shoot through her as she raised her head up to peer over the bleacher, to find that Gary and Becky were smirking at her, as if they'd known she'd been back there all along.

* * *

><p>Later, after the complete casting list had been posted, Wednesday, Pugsley, and Lucas attempted to sneak past the crowd to avoid attention. This plan failed when Amanda marched up to Lucas and stated, rather loudly,<p>

"You're my husband." Lucas stared at her, dumbfounded.

"What?" He asked, verbally expressing his confusion.

"In Gary's play, you've been cast as my husband. And as a way to help me get into character, I've decided to take you back, because despite our recent problems, I think we can overcome them for the sake of our onstage chemistry." Lucas stared at her blankly, while Pugsley smirked, and Wednesday got a rather unpleasant feeling in her stomach that she couldn't describe. Lucas raised his eyebrows and gave her a forced, confused smile.

"No, that's ok." He rejected her. Now it was Amanda's turn to be confused.

"What are you talking about?" She asked as though she'd misunderstood.

"No it's ok, you don't have to take me back, because I really don't want to be in the play, OR be with you." He clarified. Amanda's ever-present posse gasped. For perhaps a few milliseconds, Amanda almost looked hurt, but that turned to a look of malice directed at Wednesday.

"You. This is all your fault!" Amanda couldn't grasp this. She was a Buckman. Buckmans get what they want, and nobody can take it from them. The freak girl had done just that. True, Lucas wasn't the cutest boy, or the least bit athletic, or outgoing, but he was from a good family (even if his mom was a little bit nuts), and he was compatible. But most importantly, he was hers. She saw red, and clenched her fists. She wanted to lose control and beat the smug look off of Wednesday's pale face. But as a Buckman, she had to keep her dignity.

"The woods, behind the Harmony Hut. Midnight." Amanda challenged. Wednesday's eyes widened in interest, not fear.

"I knew it would come to this." She stated calmly. "Would you like for us to fight it out with our fists like savage men? Open hands like in your teen movies?" Wednesday suggested. Amanda was shocked at how cavalier Wednesday was being, while her fat brother looked at her approvingly, and Lucas looked more scared than anything; his earlier confidence almost completely gone. "No. That's not you or I at all."

"I don't know, the idea of getting to slap you sounds pretty good to me." Amanda blurted out.

"But I'm assuming you want to keep your honor. Me beating you to a bloody pulp won't grant you that." Just then, Gary and Becky walked past them, smiling at the kids for finally speaking to each other. They had no time to stop though, as they were leading two kids; both pale, one a blonde girl about Pugsley's age, the other a shy, dark-haired boy a few years younger; to the Harmony Hut. Wednesday pitied them, but continued as soon as they were gone. "So I propose an honorable duel. Just you verses me."

"Done." Amanda agreed and turned to leave with her friends without another word.

"What the heck was that?" Lucas asked Wednesday, referring to the incredibly bizarre situation that had just occurred.

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><p>Midnight. It was all too easy for Wednesday to get out of the cabin this time, due to the fact that her roommates were already gone. She moved along the edge of the woods to avoid walking out in the open. Pugsley joined her when she was halfway to the Harmony Hut, excitement blazing in his eyes.<em> This<em>was his sister.

They were finally joined by Lucas when they had nearly reached their destination. He clearly did not share Pugsley's enthusiasm.

"You aren't actually going to go through with this, are you?" He asked Wednesday in a harsh whisper.

"Of course I am."

"This is crazy!" Lucas stated the obvious.

"Totally!" Pugsley said excitedly, but a little too loud.

"Shh!" Wednesday scolded him. "But yes Lucas, I am well aware of that fact." Lucas groaned.

"I mean, this is ridiculous! There's no reason whatsoever why you have to do this. And quite frankly, it's a little stupid." Said Lucas. Wednesday looked at him coldly.

"Well, if you really feel that way, why don't you just go back to bed?" She asked.

"Actually, I think I might do that." Venom dripped from Lucas' words as he walked away in the opposite direction. Wednesday ignored her brother's satisfied smile and continued to the meeting place where Amanda and a group of about ten other children were waiting.

"About time you showed up." Amanda said and picked up one of the fencing rapiers she'd had a couple of boys steal from the sports shed. Wednesday disregarded her remark and picked up the other. She also ignored the safety equipment, while Amanda put on one of the mesh masks.

Wednesday put out her hand for Amanda to shake to begin the fight with honor, but she refused, and instead yelled the traditional, "On guard!" and held out her sword. With impossible speed, Wednesday swung at her without a moment's notice, and she had to lean back to avoid being smacked in the side of the neck. Amanda bounced back and knocked Wednesday's sword away with her own.

The girls did an intricate dance all throughout the circle made by the other kids, all rooting for their blonde leader. Clanking rapiers, and the occasional squeak from Amanda when she narrowly dodged one of Wednesday's attacks at her torso were the only sounds that filled the night.

Somehow, Amanda managed to get one good stab in, and Wednesday just narrowly got away from getting it straight in the stomach, but it did slightly tear her dress. She knew Amanda would be smiling under her mask. Wednesday took this opportunity to go at her, and in Amanda's attempt to dodge, she fell right onto her back.

There was a snarky innuendo in Wednesday's mind, but she remained silent as she stood over Amanda and held the rapier just an inch from her throat. Knowing she'd been defeated, Amanda reached up and pulled the mask off. For once in her life, she didn't care how horrible her hair probably looked. And just as Wednesday turned her back, the blonde jumped up from the ground, sword drawn.

Wednesday had heard her, and turned just in time to jump to the side, and shove the attacker into the nearest tree. Wednesday was coming at Amanda with the rapier again when two of Amanda's goons grabbed her by the shoulders and held her back. She looked over at Pugsley, and he too had been incapacitated, but by three boys.

"Let me go, I almost had her!" Wednesday yelled as she struggled to get free, and the girls were obviously about to give, almost completely unable to overpower the supernaturally strong girl.

"Ha!" A roughed-up Amanda said mockingly. At some point in the confusion, Lucas had run back to Wednesday. He saw the conflict and without a second thought, he grabbed Wednesday's dropped rapier and pointed it at the girls holding her.

"Let the goth girl go!" He ordered.

"Seriously?" He heard Wednesday mumble under her breath. The girls had just let go of her when the camp's siren went off again.

"Scatter!" A random boy yelled as the preteens hightailed it back to their respective cabins before they could be caught having underground duels for the heart of a man.

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><p><strong>Yes, that just happened. Anyone understand all of those references besides Eryn? And does anyone see that blue review button there? Yeah, that was created to be clicked. Do you really want to ruin the life of a poor review button?<strong>


	11. Chapter 11

**A/N:** Eryn again! This started as ten furtively-handwritten pages in an old composition book. My right hand is dead, but in a good way. xD

Just like with the last chapter, a scene near the end of this one started as a conversation between Ellie and I. And just like the last chapter, it seemed like a good (read: fluffy) idea at the time.

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><p>Pageant rehearsals at Chippewa had always been fraught with drama. Inevitably, someone would constantly forget their lines, or decide another camper was upstaging them, or get cast as a romantic lead opposite someone else's boyfriend.<p>

Amanda felt lucky, then, that everything had worked out perfectly. She twirled before the full-length mirror, letting her costume's long skirt flare out. The slightly cracked glass showed a smiling, rosy-cheeked blonde pilgrim- cleaner and healthier-looking than any **real** _Mayflower_ passenger, but the preteen didn't know that. All she saw was herself; perfect, as usual.

_If only Lucas were here._ The reflection's smile slowly fell. He couldn't be gone, not really. Not the clumsy puppy dog of a boy she'd trained so carefully.

She glanced at the boys' costumes hanging on the long rack. There was his, neatly pressed and ready to be altered if need be. But its owner was absent, when he should have been here an hour ago.

"Amanda?" A high-pitched voice from beyond the dressing-room curtain brought her back to reality.

"Coming, Lily," she called back. Straightening her collar, the 12-year-old pushed aside the thick brown cotton and stepped out.

Her waiting crony stopped fiddling with a platinum curl made brittle by chemicals. Her eyes widened. "Wow."

"I know, right?" Amanda grinned.

"He'll have to take you back. There's just no way," Lily said, circling her leader for a better look. When she was once again facing Amanda, the latter's glare made her stammer, "I mean, let you take him back. I mean-"

"Forget it." The other girl cut her off, rolling her eyes dramatically. Taking Lily's arm, she began to lead her back toward the main stage. But their conversation continued in whispers.

"Where is he?"

"I don't know; there's still no sign."

"If he's with that…that _witch_, I'm going to-"

But Lucas' (or, more likely, Wednesday's) hypothetical punishment would have to wait. As they passed under a thin canopy of pine branches, Amanda fell silent. The dazzling smile returned the moment her buckled shoe touched the slightly raised stage.

"…on happy Turkey Day!" With a final chord from the piano, the runthrough of one of Gary's overly perky songs ended. Becky caught sight of the girls and broke her ending pose. Practically glowing, she rushed over to the.

"Look at you! Oh, Amanda, you look perfect!" she gushed. Amanda preened, holding out her skirts and tossing her hair.

"You're just the prettiest pilgrim I've ever seen," the pigtailed woman cooed, and tickled the girl under the chin. "Gar," she called over her shoulder, "come and take a look at this!"

But her rapture was interrupted when two rather muscular boys herded three other campers up the wooden steps. Unsurprisingly, the sullen captives were none other than Wednesday, Pugsley, and Lucas.

"Here they are," one boy growled; his compatriot added, "We caught 'em by the pay phone."

"We were calling the FBI," Wednesday said as Gary, Becky, and a mob of costumed campers advanced on them.

Lucas moved to stand between his former friends and the Addamses. "Gary, their uncle's in trouble. He might have married a serial killer; we were running a check."

"And you are late for your fittings," Becky replied sternly.

Without moving, Wednesday deadpanned, "I don't want to be in the pageant."

A gasp went up from the crowd. This was tantamount to Chippewa heresy. Gary actually looked hurt. "Don't you want to help me realize my vision?"

"Your work is puerile and underdramatized. You lack any sense of structure or character, and I suspect a deaf five-year-old could compose better songs."

"Young lady, " the middle-aged man replied, a crease deepening on his tanned forehead, "I am getting just a tad tired of your attitude problem."

Beside him, his wife began to jump up and down and clap her hands. "Everyone! Campers! I have a wonderful idea."

To a one, each of the three miscreants felt their heart sink. Lucas in particular cringed. He knew that tone, having heard it aimed at other Chippewa misfits before. It never promised anything good for the guilty parties. A glance at Wednesday, however, found her still looking calm and unflappable. _How does she __**do**__ that?_

Becky, he realized, was talking again.

"Wednesday and Pugsley have just never latched onto the Chippewa spirit. And young Mr. Beineke seems to have lost it somehow."

She turned with a tragic expression to the khaki mass behind her. "Isn't that sad?"

"Yes!" came the strident reply.

"Don't we just hate that?"

"Yes!"

"Don't we wish they would just die?"

"YES!"

"No, we don't," the co-director amended hurriedly. She faced the three young transgressors again.

"But you know what we're gonna do with them? We're going to make an example."

The word "example," Wednesday noticed, seemed to be illustrated by a square if the drawing Becky made in the air with her fingers was any indication.

"We're going to show," the blonde woman continued, gesturing to them, "that anyone- no matter how misguided, or pale, or chubby- can still have a darn good time!"

Her hazel eyes narrowed. "Whether they like it or not."

* * *

><p>Suicide, Wednesday reflected, was really the only option. Smothering herself, perhaps, with one of the lacy pastel throw pillows on the sofa. Or slamming her head repeatedly against the safety-glass window. Death would be vastly preferable to another hour of-<p>

"Heigh ho! Heigh ho! It's off to work we go!"

Sitting ramrod straight on the Harmony Hut couch, the oldest Addams sibling mentally cursed Gary and Becky for the hundredth time. Lucas glanced over from beside her. "How's Pugsley holding up?"

"Passed out," she answered, jerking her head toward a large striped lump on the floor. "About halfway through Bambi."

"Poor kid," the young poet said. He shook his head in sympathy; she just snorted.

"_Lucky_ kid, you mean. If there was anything heavy to throw at the screen…" She trailed off, looking around the tiny room without much hope.

Suddenly, Lucas leapt from the sofa. "Of course! How could I forget that?" He raced to a blue backpack haphazardly tossed on the white carpet and began rummaging through it. Wednesday turned to watch him, intrigued.

"Gary forgot to take it off me. And if I didn't unpack- yes! Here it is!"

Triumphantly, he held up…a VHS tape. Wednesday's last spark of hope died.

"How will that help us escape?" she asked.

"It won't. But if we can't turn the TV off, we can at least change the tape."

As he began fumbling with the VCR, she raised one eyebrow dubiously. "What is it?"

"Labyrinth," came the reply. "Not exactly Carrie, but it's better than this crap."

Finally, he found the right button to push. Synthesized music filled the Harmony Hut as a CG owl soared across the screen.

"And hey," Lucas said, shrugging and settling back against the needlepoint cushions, "maybe you'll even like it.

And to her surprise, Wednesday did. True, there was no bloodshed, no ghouls or vampires or any violence at all. But the Goblin King was sly and sinister, and his labyrinth full of potentially deadly traps. Even the heroine, Sarah, seemed to get less bratty and more likeable as the movie went along. The adolescent made a mental note to buy a copy for Cassandra.

However, about forty minutes in, the screen was filled with a scene almost Disney-ish in its horror. A gleaming ballroom inside a bubble, with soft music and revelers in fairytale outfits. When Sarah appeared in a glittering, poofy white dress, Wednesday cringed.

"Lucas, what the…"

"Hold on," he cut in, raising a hand. "Look more carefully."

Fighting to hold back a groan, she did as he said. And suddenly, the scene became vastly more bearable. The dancers' clothes, she noticed, were faded and old-fashioned. They shared licentious glances behind strange, twisted masks. Upon closer examination, it seemed less like a Disney nightmare and more like a slightly more colorful version of her parents' annual anniversary party.

And through it all, Jareth stalked the slightly dazed Sarah, toying with her like a cat with a bird. Even the dreamy melody wasn't so bad, Wednesday had to admit.

The sound of a throat clearing made her look away from the screen. Lucas was standing, with an almost uncertain half-smile and one hand extended.

"May I have this dance?"

The usual sharp refusal was on the tip of her tongue, but for some reason, it never came. Instead, she found herself nodding, taking his hand, rising from the sofa. For a few moments, they swayed together in front of the TV; it was the typical awkward dance of adolescents, nothing like the graceful, sweeping motion of the couple on the screen. But his hand was warm against the small of her back, and his eyes had tiny flecks of green in them she'd never noticed before.

_As the world falls down…_

Wednesday pulled back slightly. "Wait. Lucas, I don't-"

But he said nothing, his eyes still locked on hers. Something shifted in the tiny, pastel-cluttered room, something that had been building for a long while now. _Too long_, was all she had time to think, before he leaned closer and-

_...makes no sense at all…_

In the rare moments when the oldest Addams child had imagined her first kiss, it had never been in view of a pink plush rabbit. Not to mention at a summer camp, or with a boy so...well, _normal_. Here she was, though, pressing her lips to his and almost unconsciously raising her arms to twine around his neck. And he was kissing her back, warm and soft and undeniably real.

The sound of shattering dream-glass from the screen pulled the preteens back to reality. They broke apart, staring at each other uncertainly.

"Um," Lucas began, running a hand awkwardly through his hair.

Wednesday finally broke the silence. "What about Amanda?"

The incredulous look on his face should have been enough to answer the question, but he blurted, "Wednesday, do you honestly think- I just _kissed_ you, so why- I mean-"

"What about Amanda?" the brunette repeated, interrupting his stammering reply. After gazing at the screen for a moment (and shooting an anxious glance at the still-unconscious Pugsley), the boy reached out and took her hand.

"I don't care how that duel ended. You win."

Pugsley sat up just in time to see them kiss once more. With a scream, he began banging his head against the wall in an attempt to return to blissful unconsciousness.

* * *

><p>It was time.<p>

This was always Gary's favorite part of longer Harmony Hut stints. When the door opened and the campers in question stumbled out. Usually they were grateful, changed, and ready to join their fellow happy Chippewas.

And if not…his face fell. If not, the door would be locked once more and the process would begin all over again.

Samantha Burns, he reflected as two large boys unlocked the door and stepped away cautiously, had taken a whole week to crack. The screams had gotten really annoying.

Just then, the heavy door slowly opened. The prisoners carefully made their way down the steps, with Wednesday in the lead. Lucas, however, stopped dead when he saw the blonde girl at Becky's elbow.

"Amanda!" He broke ranks and raced over to her, grabbing her hand.

"Oh god, I've been such an idiot!" the boy stammered. "Please take me back. I- I love you."

Amanda hesitated- then flung her arms around him. A chorus of "aw"s went up from the crowd; Gary and Becky beamed at the reunited couple. But their attention soon returned to Wednesday and Pugsley, who stood stony-faced on the Hut's brick front walk.

"Well," Gary began, "good evening. Is there anything you'd like to say to us?"

"Yes," the oldest replied dully.

"And just what might that be?" Becky chirped.

"I'm not perky," Wednesday began, only to be interrupted by a "That's for damn sure" from Amanda. Gary raised a hand to shush her.

"But I want to be," the young Addams continued. "I want to smile, and sing, and dance…and be Pocahontas in Gary's vision."

Becky's eyes widened. "Oh, darling, do you really mean it?"

It was, the other campers would later reflect, like watching a rockslide. The muscles in Wednesday's face twitched, imperceptibly at first. With visible exertion (almost as if it were painful), the black-clad girl _smiled_.

The crowd collectively gasped. Though Becky exclaimed, "Isn't she pretty?" Amanda's cry of "She's scaring me!" seemed closer to the truth as she clung to Lucas. It was less the smile of a pretty young girl and more the rictus grin of a serial killer.

In the joy of congratulating themselves, the camp directors missed the tiny wink that passed between Wednesday and Lucas.

* * *

><p><strong>AN:** Sorry for changing the line about the play, but now I know what they are (yay college theatre class!), I know that Gary's pageant actually **does** follow the Aristotelian unities- unity of setting, unity of time, and unity of plot. In other words, the action occurs in one place, over no more than 24 hours, and follows only one storyline. Or at least, it does in the parts we see. And if Wednesday knows what the unities are, she has to know that.

Take it away, Ellie!


	12. Chapter 12

**Author's note: Sorry this kind of took forever, peeps. Hard drive crash, 4th of July trip, etcetera, etcetera. On with the chapter!**

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><p>Wednesday stared at the hideous ensemble of khaki shorts and an orange Chippewa polo shirt that lay on her bed before her. She knew she had to do it, because if she continued wearing her usual dresses, other people would know she wasn't really reformed. She sighed and headed for the cabin bathroom with the outfit in hand. This plan had better be worth the pain and suffering she was going to endure.<p>

Across the camp, Lucas wasn't much enjoying his life either. He sat at the same table as Amanda, a few of her cronies, and a couple guys talking about football. He kept a fake smile plastered on his face while pushing his breakfast around the plate with a fork, and longing to be with Wednesday, and even Pugsley. He needed to talk about something other than clothes and sports, and wished he could kiss Wednesday's lips again.

In all actuality, these thoughts weren't much different than how he'd felt before he left the 'normal' people the first time, but they were far more intense, because he now knew what it was like to be free. To feel emotionally connected to someone.

"Lucas!" The familiar shrill voice shattered his thoughts and the owner of the voice's hand was actually snapping in front of his nose. He looked over at Amanda, wishing that he could show how weary of her absolutely meaningless life he was. "I asked you if you've gotten your costume fitted." The rather stereotypical blonde repeated herself.

"Yep." Lucas replied with as little distain possible. "I'm pretty sure John Smith wasn't married to Sarah Miller, but I have his costume, and Gary knows what's best for his play." Lucas knew the moment he said it that there was far too much sarcasm in what he just said, but the other kids didn't pick up on it and thought he was being serious.

"Actually, it's a musical." A far too cheery version of a voice Lucas seemed to know better than any other, said from behind him. Lucas turned his head and met a smiling, orange shirt-clad Wednesday. It took all of his strength to not jump out of his seat and hug her, but instead he asked with genuine confusion,

"I'm sorry?" Wednesday's happy girl facade remained entirely intact as she explained,

"You called Gary's vision a play, but because it has songs that help move the story along, it's actually a musical." How she'd managed to say that blatant lie without laughing, Lucas would never know. "Sorry for intruding on your conversation." Wednesday not-so-sincerely apologized to the group of popular children, and continued on over to a table where Pugsley(also wearing the orange), and a few other 'Cheery Chippewas' sat.

"So anyways, I was thinking that-" Amanda began to go on about something, but Lucas didn't care to pay attention. Instead, he chose to look over at Wednesday out the corner of his eye and caught her gaze several times. Lifesaving could not come fast enough...

* * *

><p>"What do you mean you can't swim today?" Gary asked the rehabilitated boy that was currently grimacing in pain.<p>

"Growing pains. I'm afraid I might actually drown for real if I try swimming." Lucas said this through his teeth, making it seem like his affliction was genuine. "If you just let me go lay down in my cabin, I'll be fine by the next activity." He added. Gary nodded grudgingly as he took out his notepad to write Lucas a note in case Becky or an older kid stopped him.

Lucas thanked him and limped toward his cabin until he knew Gary was no longer looking, and walked normally the rest of the way. He was not surprised to find Wednesday sitting patiently on his bed(but he did kind of wonder how she knew which one was his).

"I see my idea worked." She stated somewhat smugly.

"Yeah, yeah remind me to never doubt you." Lucas locked the door and walked over to the window to close the blinds.

"Why, Mr. Beineke, don't you think that will make people talk?" Wednesday joked for probably the fifth time in her entire life, and it went right over Lucas' head.

"This is so nobody sees us talking." He stated in half-confusion. Wednesday sighed.

"Never mind. So did you act like a convincing WASP today?" She asked.

"I think so." Said Lucas. "Or at least I haven't been thrown back into the Harmony Hut yet."

"Yes, that is indeed a good sign." Wednesday agreed.

"How about you and Pugsley?" Lucas asked, and this made him realize the younger Addams' absence. "Where is he?"

"He's making weapons in the craft hut with Consuela, David, and Carolyn." Wednesday explained. Lucas nodded and sat on the bed next to her.

"So...about last night-" Lucas began awkwardly.

"We danced, we kissed, and Pugsley possibly gave himself brain damage. What is there to talk about?" Wednesday took a folded piece of paper out of her shorts pocket. "So I scoped out the aerial plan of the camp and-" Lucas didn't give her a chance to completely change the subject.

"Do you regret it?" He asked her.

"Do I regret breaking into Becky's office to steal the camp's designs? No, but-" To Lucas, Wednesday's stubbornness could be both adorable and infuriating, and right now it was kind of a mixture of both.

"You know that's not what I was talking about." He said. Wednesday brought a hand up to one of her braids that she couldn't bear to part with for her "normal" disguise and gazed up at the cabin ceiling to avoid eye contact.

"I'm an Addams, we regret nothing." She said finally. This brought a tiny smile to Lucas' face. "Do you regret it?" Wednesday asked hesitantly.

"Nope." Lucas said casually. He turned his head to look at her and gave Wednesday the biggest smile he could muster without showing his teeth. Wednesday in turn used the collar of Lucas' hideous orange polo to pull him closer to her so their lips could meet. It wasn't quite as awkward this time around, and they didn't have to worry about pudgy little boys ruining the moment. Counselors on the other hand...

"Knock knock!" Becky's voice called from the outside of the door as she pounded a fist on it. Wednesday and Lucas separated immediately and saw the fear of being caught in each other's eyes.

"Window?" Lucas suggested in a whisper and nodded over to a window that was located near the back of the cabin. The pre-teens both dashed over to it as quietly as possible. Lucas' attempt to open it failed, and caused Wednesday to roll her eyes before making easy work of it.

"I'm going to finalize the plans with Pugsley tonight." Wednesday whispered. "If we don't get a chance to speak again before the pageant, you'll just have to improvise." Lucas' eyes widened.

"Improvise? I'm not impulsive! You know this." He whispered frantically.

"And yet, I trust you." Wednesday said and made it about halfway out the window before both she and Lucas heard keys jingling outside.

"I'll miss you." Lucas confessed to the girl. She nodded and said rather dramatically,

"Look love what envious streaks do lace the swerving clouds in yonder east. I must be gone and live, or stay and die." She pecked Lucas' lips once more, and with that, she dropped to the grass on the outside and turned to run. Lucas stopped her with,

"Quoting Shakespeare while escaping possible time in the Harmony Hut. You're crazy."

"And don't forget it." Wednesday said with a smirk and bolted. Lucas just had time to turn away from the window before Becky opened the door. She was clearly suspicious.

"Lucas, didn't you hear me knocking?" She asked him in the same tone one would use when speaking to a four-year-old.

"I was taking a nap. See, I have a pass." Lucas said quickly and pulled the now crumpled piece of paper from his pocket."Your bed is there." Becky's eyes fell on Lucas' bed, several feet from where he was now.

"I sleepwalk. It's a problem." Lucas himself barely knew where these quips were coming from.

"Well, I was just coming to get you for rehearsal. I just choreographed a great dance number for John Smith!" Becky said excitedly. Lucas' Cheshire-smile could not have been more fake.

"Sounds awesome!" He lied with enthusiasm and accompanied Becky out of the cabin.

"You don't by any chance know how to tap dance, do you?" The counselor asked. Despite the fact that he admittedly DID know how to tap dance, Lucas cursed Wednesday repeatedly for getting off easy.

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><p><strong>Oh look, a conveniently-placed box right below the chapter for you to leave your opinion! I don't think such a thing should be ignored.<strong>


	13. Chapter 13

A/N: Not even going to bother explaining why this is late, but I apologize. On to the chapter.

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><p><em>Dear Mother,<em>

_Don't come next week. If Cassandra's sick, you should be home with her. Pugsley wants me to threaten you, but I won't. Try not to let Father die before we get there, especially if it might be interesting. We **are** coming, and very soon._

_Camp is hell. We might never forgive you for sending us here. I've made one friend- Lucas- but most of the people are nauseating idiots. Pugsley's gotten close to cracking. But like I said, we'll be back soon. It might even be on the news._

_Thank you for the most recent care package. The nitroglycerin was very helpful._

_Love,_

_Wednesday._

Morticia sighed and placed the letter gently on a blonde wood end table. She leaned back in the rocker, dabbing at her eyes with a scrap of black lace. The baby on her lap gurgled happily.

She looked down and the tears only fell faster. Though once her perfect imp of a daughter, the child was now unrecognizeable. Ringlets the color of cornsilk framed a pink-cheeked face, with its ever-present smile. Only Cassandra's blue eyes remained unchanged, though they now seemed unspeakably cute rather than haunting.

Quiet sobbing echoed from down the hall, tugging at Morticia's heartstrings even more. Gomez still showed no signs of rising from his bed. He hadn't even bothered to read Wednesday's letter.

The new mother glanced despondently around the nursery. The lovely vulture wallpaper, toy monsters, moth-eaten curtains and creaking floorboards- everything had turned to soft fabrics, safely rounded edges, and classic Winnie-the-Pooh. Even the ancestral Addams cradle was now graceful and white-painted, with gauzy net hangings. Whatever curse had befallen her child had destroyed the infant Addams' entire world.

_And I know the cause._

It had to be Fester. There was no question. Mama's book had mentioned separations; in a family so close-knit, Morticia wasn't surprised. She remembered Cassandra gleefully biting her uncle's finger right to the bone and smiled sadly.

The two had been so close.

With a sniff, she bounced the baby girl slightly on her knee; the resulting merry giggles made her shudder.

"Your sister sends her love," she said softly. "May Discordia forgive the way we've failed all of you."

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><p>"Okay, people! Everyone quiet back there!" Becky shouted.<p>

The din of a few dozen preteen voices died away; all eyes turned to Mrs. Martin-Granger. Beaming, the co-director adjusted her feathered headband.

"Oh, you all look so precious!" she cooed. "Don't they, Gar?"

Gary looked up from examining his pilgrim hat in the full-length mirror. He grinned at the crowd of bright, tanned faces. But the smile didn't reach his eyes- which darted briefly to a laundry bag hanging on one tent wall. Times like this made the bottle of bourbon hidden within seem even more necessary than usual.

"Just wonderful," he replied, edging toward the bag.

"Now," Becky continued, "let's go over a few things before we start."

She cupped her hands around her mouth like a megaphone. "Remember to project, and-" with an even wider grin- "smile!"

Gary cleared his torhat, stepping onto the makeshift podium. "Speaking of smiles," he said quietly, with a significant glance at his wife. Becky nodded.

"And we just want to make sure that everything goes smoothly," she said. "Wednesday? Pugsley?"

A slight ripple seemed to pass through the crowd as the campers looked around for the infamous siblings. Just as Becky began to worry, the flap at the back of the tent rustled.

"Sorry we're late."

Wednesday stepped inside, the beats on her buckskin dress jingling slightly. Becky frowned.

"Why didn't you use the bronzer I gave you?"

"It exploded," she replied with the rictus smile that had come to haunt many of her peers' nightmares over the past two weeks. "Right in Amanda's face." Turning around, she added, "Sorry, Amanda."

The blonde pilgrim looked confused. "But you never had-"

Gary cut her off, an event without precedent. "Never mind that. Where's Pugsley?"

"I can't come in," answered a muffled voice from outside. "My tail is too big."

Amanda rolled her eyes and looked over at Lucas. The John Smith costume wasn't particularly flattering, and he was the same gangly boy he'd always been- but something was still indefiniably different about her boyfriend. These past few weeks he'd seemed more...**himself** than ever before. And if she was to be completely honest, it made him strangely attractive.

At the moment, however, he was looking at That Girl again. His girlfriend elbowed him in the ribs.

"Lucas!"

The boy jumped slightly. "What?"

"I'm glad we're playing a couple," she whispered. Reaching down, she twined her fingers with his and squeezed his hand.

"Me, too," he replied with a smile. But when her attention returned to Gary, he glanced in Wednesday's direction. Their eyes met, and held for a moment until she looked away.

* * *

><p><em>I still don't trust her.<em>

The pageant had reached its final scene without a hitch, but Amanda hadn't let her guard down. No matter how much Wednesday smiled and said her lines perfectly, she couldn't be trusted until after the curtain fell.

Well, figuratively speaking.

Even now, as she led her band of faux Indians to the table, Amanda was sure she had something up her sleeve.

"How," the young Addams began. "I am Pocahontas, a Chippewa maiden."

Tiny Mordecai Bergman raised a plastic tomahawk beside her. "And I am Running Bear, betrothed to Pocahontas," he said with surprising power for his size.

Amanda stifled a chuckle. Half the camp believed a secret romance had blossomed between the two outcasts, a rumor she'd done everything to encourage.

_Pick on a boy your own size- socially, at least_, she thought smugly.

"I am a turkey. Kill me!"

Pugsley's line brought her back to the present. "What a thoughtful gift!" she said in a smarmy tone. "Why you are as civilized as we."

The leading lady turned to the audience with a conspiratorial look. "Except we wear shoes and have last names."

Once the expected burst of polite laughter had died down, she continued, "Welcome to our table, our new primitive friends!"

"Thank you, Sarah Miller," Wednesday said while her pilgrim counterpart preened. "You are the most beautiful person I have ever seen. Your hair is the color of the sun. Your skin is like fresh milk. And everyone loves you."

"Stop!" Amanda protested with clearly false modesty. She gestured to the long table. "Sit."

Suddenly, the brunette's smile disappeared. She held out her arms to block the other misfit campers' way.

"Wait."

A chill ran down Amanda's spine. This couldn't end well. "What?"

"We cannot break bread with you." Wednesday's voice no longer sounded cheerful. Her smile had vanished. Though the counselors had explained Harmony Hut psychology, it was beginning to seem less effective than they'd claimed.

From somewhere in the distance, drums began beating out an ominous rhythm. "Pocahontas" continued.

"You have taken the land which is rightfully ours. Years from now, my people will be forced to live in mobile homes, on reservations. Your people will wear cardigans and drink highballs. We will sell our bracelets by the roadside. You will play golf, and enjoy hot hors d'oeurves."

In the orchestra pit, Becky struggled to restrain a furious Gary from leaping onto the stage.

"My people will have pain, and degredation. Your people will have stick shifts. The gods of my tribe have spoken. They have said, 'Do not trust the pilgrims...especially Sarah Miller'."

With a nervous glance at the camp directors, Amanda whined, "Gary, she's changing the words!"

Solemnly, Wednesday turned to face her. The look in her brown eyes said someone was about to die.

"And for all these reasons, I have decided to scalp you, and burn your village to the ground."

Right on cue- though not one of Gary's- her group of outcasts broke ranks with a chorus of shouts and war whoops. A few of them grabbed the torches around the stage and began setting fire to the thatched-roof "pilgrim" cottages. Others used makeshift tennis-racket catapults to hurl pies at the audience, or shot burning arrows at Gary and Becky. A few parents managed to break their shell shock and attempted to charge the stage- until the bleachers collapsed. Observant campers would later say they'd seen Mordecai and Consuela Santiago working the levers that allowed the risers to collapse.

Amanda found herself dragged, screaming, to one of the stage's wooden support poles. Two campers in war paint tied her to the pole while another piled logs around her feet. With a disgusted expression, Pugsley shoved an apple in her mouth to stifle her cries.

And in the middle of it all, like a goddess of chaos, was Wednesday. She strolled toward her captive nemesis, taking in the destruction with a look of supreme satisfaction. Finally, she focused her full attention on Amanda.

If her eyes had promised death before, they now vowed total obliteration.

Reaching into her headband, the brunette pulled out a tiny box. Amanda's screams intensified as she took out a match and struck it. For the first time, a true smile crossed her face. It was small, sinister, and gave the impression that she would destroy the recipient and enjoy doing it. She bent to light the gasoline-soaked logs-

-only to have another hand catch hers. A slender but distinctly male hand.

Gazing into Wednesday's eyes, Lucas tossed the match in the general direction of the lake. "She's not worth a murder charge," he murmured.

Amanda tried to tell herself that it was a ruse, that he was faking to save her from certain death, but there was no denying the look on her boyfriend's (_ex-boyfriend's?_) face. He and Wednesday were staring at each other the way they had on the first day of camp- like there were two spotlights on them and the rest of the world didn't exist.

And as they kissed, Amanda was finally stunned into silence.

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><p>AN: Let's hear it for love triumphing, folks. Be sure to leave a review on your way out. :)


	14. Chapter 14

**Author's note: Today was the first day of school, and I was up until 11 last night writing this chapter. I hope you're happy, readers. xD**

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><p>"Careful!" Lucas said instinctually as he helped Wednesday over the fence. This could have very easily been met with some sarcastic comeback about barbed wire, but Wednesday decided against it. Once she dropped onto her feet on the other side, she expected Lucas to follow her, but when he didn't, she knew what was happening. The one thing in her plan she hadn't prepared for.<p>

"I have to go back. Make sure everyone's alright." Wednesday swallowed and struggled to keep her voice from cracking. No, she wasn't crying. She absolutely refused to cry.

"You're very brave." She managed to say, and earned a modest smile from Lucas.

"Go save your uncle." He urged.

"Will I ever see you again?" Wednesday asked. Lucas shrugged before an idea occurred to him, and he reached into the back pocket of the ridiculous pilgrim costume.

"What are you doing?" Wednesday asked. Lucas produced a piece of crumpled up paper and a pen and began to write.

"I want you to write to me, and I'll write back. That way, we'll always be there for each other, in some way." Lucas finished writing and handed Wednesday the paper through the fence. A quick look at it revealed an address, and a phone number. An earsplitting scream from the blazing camp, and Pugsley pulling up in a stolen car alerted them that they'd run out of time. Their eyes met, and they both brought their faces closer to the fence. With the fire and smoke of Camp Chippewa on one side of the fence, and an impatient juvenile on the other, Wednesday and Lucas kissed for what could have been the very last time. It could have gone on for a lot longer than a few lingering seconds, but Pugsley blasted the horn and they were forced to separate.

"Goodbye." Wednesday whispered to him and went to the car, where Pugsley greeted her with a look of discust, but wisely chose to remain silent. As the two drove away, Lucas waived from the fence, and turned around to head back.

Wednesday once again looked down at the paper he'd given her, and then stuffed it into her dress pocket. She supposed that she had better watch Pugsley's driving to make sure they didn't look any more suspicious than they already did. "Slow down." She instructed, and turned around to watch the light of the engulfing flames fade behind them.

* * *

><p>The family had to give kudos to Debbie, because usually it would take a lot more than a shotgun to round the entire family and lock them in the electric chairs. But no matter how she did it, here they were. As Debbie was strapping her into her chair, Wednesday remembered the pack of matches in her pocket. She wasn't sure of what she would do with them, but she knew that she would die the same way if she attempted an escape than if she didn't.<p>

"Miss me?" Debbie taunted her when she bound her left wrist too tight.

"No." Wednesday said blankly and tried to get the matches as quickly as she possibly could. She managed to get a hold of them, but Debbie caught her arm.

"I don't think so, kid." Debbie snatched the box and bound Wednesday's right wrist before searching her dress pockets for explosives and such. When she found the piece of paper, Wednesday hoped she would just kill them already. She must have given some facial tell, because Debbie decided to read it. "Lu-cas." She pronounced in a mocking manner that made Wednesday wish she had her Chippewa Squad right about now. "How pathetic." Debbie chucked the paper across the room, and then turned to face the family.

"I don't want to hurt anybody. I don't enjoy hurting anybody. I don't like guns, or bombs, or electric chairs. But sometimes people just won't listen!" She started. Wednesday really wasn't up for this. Debbie was proving to be a rather stereotypical villain, what with the big speech, as opposed to just killing them. "And so I have to use persuasion...and slides." With that, Debbie started a slideshow. Wednesday could tell that the rest of her family was feeling the same way as she was, every time they interjected their own commentary to Debbie's story of her "tragic" childhood and marriages.

It was around the time Debbie was telling the story of her brief marriage to a toy mogul, and how she'd hanged him with a jumprope, that Wednesday and Pugsley noticed the absence of their baby sister. They were grateful that Debbie had chosen to leave Cassandra out of this(or at least Wednesday was), but they figured that Debbie had seen her blonde hair and dimples transformation that their mother had described in her letter, and figured she was no longer a threat. Finally, Debbie got to a picture of Uncle Fester on a riding lawn mower giving the camera a big smile, which caused everyone to feel sympathy for the poor man.

"My latest husband. My late husband," Debbie lost all affection in her voice, "Fester."

"The fool." Uncle Fester admitted in despair.

"The corpse." Debbie spat. "And his adorable family." She took a few steps towards the chairs. "You took me in, you accepted me." She started, "But did any of you LOVE me? Really love me?" In response to Debbie's melodramatic question, Gomez called to his family,

"Hands?" Everybody looked down at their tightly bound wrists in a perfect display of how they felt about Debbie Jellinsky Addams.

"So, I-I killed?" Debbie continued. "So, I maimed? So I destroyed one innocent life after another! Aren't I a human being?! Don't I yearn, and ache, and...shop?" Wednesday, Pugsley, and their father shared the same basic facial expression at this point. "Don't I deserve love...and jewelry?" Morticia was the only person to nod.  
>And finally, Debbie made her way to the switch. Gomez and Morticia took the remaining moments to bid each other a final farewell.<p>

"Adieu, mon cher."

"Adios, cara mia." The heartbreakingly romantic display from his brother and his wife caused Fester try to reason with his homicidal wife.

"Debbie, let them go. Take me and my money. For what I've done, I deserve to die." But of course, this did not work in the slightest.

"Sorry." Debbie said without remorse. Feeling it was time to get this over with, she chippered up, the madness practically coming out of every pore. "Goodbye everybody! Wish me luck!"  
>"<p>

Good luck." The family said in unison, and Debbie flipped the switch.

But just then, little dark-haired, pale Cassandra fell through a hole in the ceiling. The baby found two ends of wire, and to Debbie's horror, connected them. The rest of the family were then entertained by the sight of seeing Debbie be electrocuted into nothing but a pile of ash. When it was over, all that was left of Fester's wife was her shoes, and her credit cards. The little girl giggled in delight at her handiwork.

**It was my first day back at school. Reviews would be awesome right about now.**


	15. Chapter 15

**A/N:** Eryn here again, for the last time- in _this_ story. More details to come in the end note. It's hard to believe ANSV is finally ending, since it started five months ago. But anyway, on to the chapter.

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><p>"Wednesday?"<p>

"Mm?"

"Do you think you'll ever see Lucas again?" Pugsley's tone sounded almost chipper as he adjusted the collar of the Jacobean velvet suit he was rapidly outgrowing. His sister groaned, turning away from the window.

"Considering that he'll be here in about thirty minutes, yes," she replied.

The box on the window rattled slightly in its wrappings- black, patterned with silver spiderwebs –and the oldest Addams child fought the strange urge to smile indulgently. She'd hand-picked Cassandra's birthday present; out of all the tarantulas in her home breeding operation, that one showed the most promise as a fighter. Morticia had worried that the baby wouldn't know not to eat it, but Wednesday had faith.

"We should head down," she said; "They'll be starting soon."

Pugsley shrugged, and she crossed to the window to grab the present. After checking the box carefully for holes (_We don't need a repeat of the Pomeroy incident._), she began to follow her brother out the door. But as he reached the hall and proceeded down the stairs, her footsteps slowed. After glancing quickly around to make sure she was alone, the 13-year-old paused in front of the full-length mirror.

The cracked and dirty glass showed almost the same reflection as before Cassandra was born, though a year had passed. The same pallid skin as ever, same dark braids, a black dress that differed from her usual one only in pattern. She was perhaps a bit taller, with a bit less baby fat, but otherwise, the same Wednesday Addams she'd been for years.

_What he sees in me, I'll never understand._

The thought had come unbidden, but it was true. Lucas, she mused, could have any girl; for pity's sake, he'd had Amanda before he ever knew her. And yet somehow, over all the blonde and perky girls in the Chippewa set, he'd picked her- monochromatic and snarky as she was.

In the mirror, her lips twitched upwards ever so slightly.

"Wednes?"

The shout interrupted her thoughts, and she whirled back towards the door. But Pugsley seemed to still be on the stairs.

"Wednesday, come on!"

Turning out the light as she went, Wednesday slowly walked to meet her younger brother. _Can't give him the satisfaction of having made me run._ As they reached the foyer, Fester came bustling out of the kitchen with presents on each arm.

"A birthday party!" he crowed. "What a treat! And to think I might have missed all this. What was I thinking of?"

"Physical pleasure," his niece deadpanned. A slight, savage moan from the bald man made her immediately wish she'd stayed silent.

"Uncle Fester," Pugsley asked mildly, "Do you ever miss Debbie?"

Wednesday stared at him. Of all people to be asking sentimental questions, her brother? The same brother who'd put her through hell for falling- well, showing interest in Lucas? This would be blackmail material for years to come.

Fester sighed and shifted his grip on the packages. "Well, sometimes. Late at night. I remember how she used to turn to me and say-" The wistful tone left his voice and his face contorted into a caricature of annoyance. " 'Jesus, Fester, go back to your room!' "

The children exchanged glances as he wheezed with laughter. Their uncle was definitely himself again.

"Yoo-hoo! Are we late?"

Itt, Margaret, and baby Whatt stood in the doorway. The red-haired woman looked out-of-place in her pale blue suit, but Wednesday had already learned to see past her cousin-in-law's mundane exterior. Any woman who could give birth to Whatt was definitely worthy of the family name.

Fester grinned. "Not at all. We're just getting started.

"I hope no-one minds," Margaret said, "we've brought along a guest. This is our new nanny."

A young woman with deeply sunken eyes stepped shyly over the threshold. Her dress- a moldy shade of black, fastened at the throat with a shell cameo –did nothing to disguise her large-boned body's lack of curves. And as Margaret introduced her as Dementia, she removed her flowered hat to reveal a head as bare as Fester's.

And from the look in his eyes, Wednesday knew her uncle was lost once again. But instead of groveling, he pulled himself up to his full height.

"Dementia," he repeated. "What a beautiful name." The nanny smiled.

"It means 'insanity'."

"My name's Fester. It means 'to rot'," Fester replied proudly.

_Well, at least this one's probably homicidal in a good way._ But Wednesday's thoughts were pulled away from her uncle's possible crush by the foghorn sound of the doorbell.

"I'll get it." She walked as slowly and carefully as possible to the door, so as not to give Pugsley any fuel for teasing. Not that he needed it.

On the porch, finally wearing black for once, stood Lucas; it was a struggle for her not to involuntarily smile. Especially when he did, one side of his mouth tilting up slightly more than the other.

"You look beautiful."

"I look the same as I always do."

"Exactly."

And it was all she could do not to grab him and kiss him right there.

* * *

><p>From the front of the parlor, Gomez raised his smoking glass and clinked it against Morticia's.<p>

"A toast," he said to the room at large, "To the glorious mysteries of life. To all that binds a family as one. To mirth. To merriment. To manslaughter."

A general murmur of "hear, hear" went up from the party guests. The Addams patriarch smiled and indicated Margaret and Itt with his glass.

"To dear friends."

He looked next to Fester and Dementia, who were standing side by side and talking in whispers. As his brother addressed them, Fester took Dementia's hand. The nanny blushed slightly, but looked pleased and touched her glass to his.

"To new friends."

With an indulgent smile at Wednesday and Lucas, Gomez continued. "To youth."

"I think your father actually likes me," Lucas said quietly.

"Which is mildly disturbing," Wednesday replied, taking a sip from her glass.

And as always, the Spaniard's attention returned to his beloved wife. "To passion," he murmured.

Morticia's eyes seemed to glow as she gazed at him. "To paradise."

"To pain."

"Tonight," she said with a small, devilish smile. They moved closer, completely engrossed in each other as if nothing else existed, and just as their lips met-

A cackle from the doorway broke the spell. Granny stumped in from the kitchen, pushing a cart laden with a large birthday cake and one-year-old Cassandra. That the baby hadn't yet ruined her ornate black lace dress, Wednesday reflected, was nothing short of a miracle.

"Make way for the birthday girl!" Granny said with a toothless grin.

"Thing," Gomez said as the guests approached the cake, "will you do the honors?"

The disembodied hand leapt onto the trolley, struck a match against his thumbnail, and lit a single black candle placed in the middle of a tiny toy guillotine. As Lurch struck up "Happy Birthday" on the organ, Wednesday stepped closer and gently picked up her sister.

"Happy birthday, Cassandra," she said quietly. And when certain no-one was looking, she pressed a quick kiss to the top of the baby's head.

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><p>About an hour after the festivities had started, Wednesday and Lucas managed to slip outside into the cemetery. For a while, they'd made small talk about various things- Cassandra, Fester's potential romance, the fact that Gary and Debbie were being sued for all they had by various angry parents. But as conversations do, it eventually petered out.<p>

"So," Lucas said, shifting on the marble bench.

"So," Wednesday replied.

For a moment, the only sounds among the gravestones were crickets, night birds, and the occasional shattering of glass followed by happy shrieks as Cassandra tried out her new toys. Then, Lucas spoke.

"Well, your family's…interesting."

"That's a nice way of putting it," she replied, rolling her eyes.

"No, I mean it. Your parents are so involved with each other. Not like mine- sometimes I wonder why they're still married. Or ever got married in the first place. But yours make it obvious. I don't know, it just seems like there should be more couples like that."

Wednesday stared fixedly at the moon. There was no strange feeling in the pit of her stomach, and the urge to look at him was simply because he was the only other person in evidence. It certainly wasn't a desire to see his expression as he spoke. Or just to see him, period, as much as possible before he returned to the darkest depths of Ohio.

"Wednesday?"

The Addams girl gave up and looked at him. "Yes?"

"Do you think someday you might want to get married and have kids?"

She thought for a moment, staring at the ground, and then met his eyes again. "I used to think I wouldn't. I probably still won't. But…well, anything's possible."

"If you met the right man," he asked jokingly, "who worshipped and adored you? Who'd do anything for you? Who'd be your devoted slave?"

Resisting the urge to smack him, she instead shot him a "really?" look. "No. That man would be an idiot and I'd pity him," she replied dryly. "I'm not my mother."

He reached out and took her hand, gently stroking the back of it with his thumb. "I know."

Squeezing his hand, she scooted closer to him, the tension between them seeming to ease. "Lucas, when will I see you again?"

With a sigh, he replied, "I don't know. School's starting soon, and my parents probably won't go for frequent trips to New York. It sucks, but I guess that's life."

Wednesday stared at their intertwined fingers. "Write me."

"I will. Every day if I can. And I'll call, when I can get away from my parents."

Grabbing his striped tie and pulling him closer, she looked into his eyes. "Is that a promise?" she asked.

"Yes, my Diana. More than any promise I've ever made before."

In the years ahead, Cassandra Corva Addams would swear that her earliest memory was on the night of her first birthday party. Her siblings would scoff; her parents would tell her more kindly that, while stranger things had happened, very few people remembered back that far. Her grandmamma would say that she'd just been told the story so often that she thought she remembered it.

Only Lurch would nod and smile when she said that her earliest memory was of staring out the window that night and seeing her sister and Lucas in each other's arms under the full moon. But whether they believed the story or not, none of the family could deny that Cassandra had said her first word that night- and it was "kiss."

* * *

><p><strong>AN:** That ending became a lot fluffier than I intended, but whatever. WxL romance and adorable babies are basically this story's reason for existing.

So that's it. But wait, you're saying, what was that about another story in the opening note? Yes, you read it right. There will be a sequel to this, probably taking place during the events of the musical. But if I say anymore, I'll give things away. So suffice to say there's more coming.


End file.
